Lost Half
by LyricalKris
Summary: Even though she kept her feet on the ground, Bella always wanted to believe in the magic of true love. Edward could have taught her that kind of love existed. Too bad he showed up too late. Can you still find your soul mate when your soul has been completely shattered?
1. Bad Date

**Author's notes, disclaimers and other warnings: So I was on twitter the other night wondering if there were any good kidnapping stories. I was pointed in the direction of a few, but some enablers suggested I should write one.**

**See, this is what happens when I then relate this story to GinnyW who pulls plot bunnies out of my head like a magician pulls rabbits from a hat. SIGH. I love her. I do. And she's a genius, as she will often tell me. Hehehe.  
**

**So fair warning. This is gonna be dark. I choose not to put detailed warnings in my a/n's, but if you have a question please feel free to ask.**

**I am not Stephenie Meyer; I am merely playing with her beautiful toys.**

* * *

Dinner was going surprisingly well. At least, Bella Swan wasn't hating it as much as she expected.

Her date, Mike Newton, was nice enough - generic, but nice. He was moderately attractive and mildly interesting. She wasn't particularly intrigued but she wasn't bored either.

"It's all a little strange, to be honest," she mused at one of his questions. "I'm not a big fan of dating on the Internet." She wasn't really a fan of dating period, but that was another story. "It still seems odd to me. No offense."

The blond man waved his hand. "None taken. I've never gotten one of my girls from an online dating site. It's going to be a new experience for me, too."

_Odd_, Bella thought, blinking because his words didn't quite make sense. But before she had time to dwell on his bizarre choice of words, Mike began to ramble on, discussing the different surveys the site they met on had them take. Bella had spent more nights than she cared to remember just trying to puzzle out the algorithms - how the site claimed to match people based on common interests.

Her mother had always told her good relationships should be based on common interests above everything else.

"_See. Even Sleeping Beauty and her Prince were interested in dancing with total strangers in the woods. Sometimes, that's all it takes, sweet pea_!"

But, her mother had added, _love_ took a spark that could never be explained away by anything logical.

Bella still remembered her mother's voice in her ear as they read fairytales at bedtime. Her heart twisted painfully in her chest, and she quickly shook thoughts of her mother's creative stories away. Now wasn't the time for that particular ache.

"It cuts out so much work, doesn't it?" Mike asked, leaning across the table slightly.

"What's that?" What were they talking about? Bella scrambled to remember the last thing he said.

"Well, we know we agree on so many things right off the bat. We have so much in common."

His ice blue eyes were so earnest, what could Bella do but smile and nod? _This guy is a little weird_.

Bella inwardly admonished herself for that less than charitable thought. Everyone was just a little bit weird, weren't they? She'd promised Rose she would give this guy a chance.

Either way, it would get her best friend off her back for another five years or so. Bella kept trying to tell Rosalie she didn't need a significant other to be happy. That never seemed to deter her friend.

All in all, while Bella couldn't say she was having a terrible time, she wasn't particularly impressed.

Rose often lamented that Bella was jaded in love without having any reason to be. In truth, that was very far from the case. If only because her mother's voice was never far away, Bella absolutely believed the magic of love existed. But as much as her mother instilled in her a far away belief in fanciful ideas, her steadfast father had kept her grounded in reality.

She saw the world through both her parents' eyes. Like her mother, she saw the power and magic of love, the endurance of the human spirit, the power of mystical things. But her father's firm grip on reality meant she also knew love didn't stop the world from being so real. People would still be imperfect. Love couldn't keep people from making mistakes or being hurt. And sometimes, the good guys were going to lose.

Life wasn't all magic and happy endings.

So Bella simply preferred not to live with her head in the clouds, dreaming like Sleeping Beauty of the day a person just perfect for her would waltz into her life once upon a dream. She had other aspirations besides love, and her life was happy even if her bed was empty.

Maybe it was silly, but Bella had no desire to nurse a lukewarm connection just for the sake of not being alone.

When her date with Mike came to an end, she had every intention of wishing him a good night and never seeing him again. She hoped he wouldn't expect anything, that if he felt a desire to ask her out again he would wait until they were safely behind their computer screens. It would be less awkward and easier to let him down gently when they weren't face to face.

Outside the restaurant, Mike turned to her, taking both her hands in his. She tensed, about to yank her hands back, but he held her in an alarmingly strong grip. Her eyes darted to his, and Bella was momentarily befuddled by his absolutely serene expression. His smile was gentle.

All at once, Bella felt so entirely overcome by fear, she was utterly frozen, her thoughts too muddled to process why she suddenly wanted to run away far and fast. She stood still as he leaned in, brushing her cheek with his lips. "We're going to see each other very soon. Very, very soon, pretty Bella," he whispered against her ear.

Then he let her go, wishing her good night and walking away, whistling, without looking back.

It took Bella a few seconds to realize she was trembling. She rubbed the back of her neck self-consciously, confused that she was so shaken. Ridiculously, tears pricked her eyes, and it was a minute before she remembered how to walk. She stumbled to her car almost drunkenly.

As she drove home, Bella couldn't quite shake the eerie feeling that had come over her. She was covered in gooseflesh, her thoughts tinged around the edges with paranoia.

But surely she was being ridiculous. It wasn't as though Mike had hurt her. For pity's sake, he'd only kissed her cheek.

Why on earth was she so creeped out?

And she was, too. It felt as though her flesh was crawling, like she was covered in some invisible slime that made her feel filthy. It was the furthest thing from pleasant, that feeling.

By the time she pulled up to her little house, she'd convinced herself she was just a touch crazy. Mike hadn't done anything untoward, and she would never have to see him again besides. Whatever this was, it was an overreaction to Mike's minor invasion of her personal bubble space.

Taking a deep breath, she got out of her car. Though she'd never before been scared of the blackness of the forest that surrounded her house, it seemed oddly sinister now and she glanced about nervously, her mind making frighting shapes out of the dark shadows.

It was all she could do to keep herself from darting to her front door like a child running away from thunder. She made herself take a deep breath. She took a step, determined to keep her pace to a normal gait, only to clap a hand over her mouth, smothering a yelp when she heard a commotion in the bushes.

_Just a cat. Get a fucking grip, Swan._

Shaking her head, she dug out her phone. She sent Rose a quick text, being vague.

_**Date was fine. Home. Yes, alone. See you Friday**_.

Just as she was putting her phone back in her purse, beginning to search for her keys, she heard another rustle and the unmistakable sound of quick footfalls a split second before she found both her arms pinned to her sides. She gasped, feeling a prick and a sting at her neck. Just as she geared up to scream, a hand came up, grasping her roughly over her mouth.

"It's okay. Calm down. Just breathe deep."

Bella's blood ran cold as she recognized the voice.

Mike.

She thrashed, trying desperately to loose his arms from around her.

"Take it easy, Bella. Just take it easy now, sweet girl. You're gonna get sleepy in just a few seconds here. Just relax. Don't fight it."

She fought it. She fought it ferociously for as little good as it would do her. He was right. Whatever he'd stuck her neck with was burning through her veins, but she could feel her body getting sluggish. She shook her head hard, her screams muffled against his hand.

"There you go. Yeah. You're okay, sweet girl. It's gonna be just fine. I have you now," he continued to coo at her nonsensically as her spastic jerks dwindled. Her vision was blurring around the edges. She was slumping - slumping in his arms down toward the dirt floor of the forest that surrounded her house.

When had she gotten so far away from the drive?

Bella struggled, but her eyelids felt so heavy. Thoughts were turning to mush in her head. Even her panic was fading away. Everything was fading away.

She was on the ground and he was touching her face. She could see his ice blue eyes. They were so calm. It seemed wrong. So wrong. "You and me, Bella girl. We're going to have such a good time together. You'll see. You're the one. I think you really are the one."

She wanted to scream out her terror, but her tongue was too thick in her mouth. The sound came out as more of a groan.

The blur encroached on her vision and everything faded to blackness.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who encouraged me. This is going to be a very bumpy ride. **

**Thoughts? Fears? Hopes? Reactions?**


	2. Two Days Gone

**A/N: Oooh, my lovelies. Apparently you're up for a little suspense. *holds your hand* Here we go.**

* * *

A very annoying, very consistent thumping noise insisted on pulling Edward Cullen from the deepest part of his slumber.

Edward was not a morning person. Like any good computer nerd, he lived mostly at night. His sister affectionately accused him of being a vampire. Apparently an expert, she frequently told him creatures of the night were notoriously unlucky in love. At least, there was usually some kind of bloodletting involved, and let's be honest - the type of people into that kind of play would likely be too much for a timid soul like Edward.

"_I'm not timid_," Edward had told his sister sourly.

And he wasn't, but he had to concede blood-drinking goth girls were probably not his scene.

The thumping wasn't letting him slip back into his dreams. It was getting rather urgent, in fact.

He rolled out of bed - quite literally toppling out of his bed onto the floor - and dragged himself to his feet. His mind was beginning to turn on again, firing with all pistons.

It was early. Very early. First light of the morning type early. The kind of early Edward preferred never to acknowledge existed unless he hadn't been to bed yet.

Early and someone was pounding on his door.

Something wasn't right. Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

Thinking of his mother, his father, his sister, Edward stumbled faster.

There were two people outside his door. A man and a woman.

Police.

This really wasn't good.

"What's going on?" he asked, his voice still raw from sleep. He was beginning to feel the first pinpricks of panic. Adrenaline pushed him into high alert, and he wanted to do something, but what?

"Edward Cullen?" the woman asked, and Edward nodded, his gut twisting uncomfortably. "We need your assistance with a kidnapping case."

**_~0~_**

Edward was the CEO and founder of By The Numbers, Inc., a successful online community that matched people based on their likelihood to be friends first and foremost.

The police had brought Edward to his office, where he was introduced to FBI Agent Aro Scarpinato and his team. According to them, one of BTN's subscribers who went by the name Mike Newton had used Edward's service to find and target another user, Isabella Swan. The two had arranged to meet for the first time that Wednesday night. Friday night, Isabella had plans to meet with her best friend, Rosalie Hale. She never showed. It was now Saturday morning.

Edward's office was crawling with FBI agents. Once he'd gotten them the information they needed and allowed them access to the correct databases, they'd pushed him away and set to work. They told him little of what they were looking for. From the conversation, he doubted even they knew yet.

Edward felt absolutely sickened.

His intention for his business was absolutely pure. Unlike other online communities, he didn't promise anyone could find love. He believed love was an emotion with a little bit of magic attached, not something that could be assigned a number in part of an algorithm.

All his service really offered was a chance at a connection. Based on surveys a person took, they were given friend suggestions, pointed in the direction of people whose interests matched. The idea wasn't to find love but to combat loneliness, putting people in touch with others who were of a like mind. Every deep relationship - friendly and romantic alike - began with common ground.

Agent Scarpinato's partner, Marcus Ricci interrupted Edward's thoughts. "How are you holding up, Mr. Cullen?"

Edward chuffed. "Does it even matter? I'm safe here in my office when that poor young woman..." He swallowed hard, his throat painfully tight. "And you know what the real bitch of it is? She just took the basic survey. Any match she had based on that one survey would be so very superficial - a shallow similarity."

"Well, it's difficult to tell at this point how Newton targeted her. It could well be he was just browsing images and took to her face for one reason or another."

Automatically, Edward's gaze drifted to the profile up on the main screen of the room - a screen high enough and large enough everyone could see. Isabella's smile suggested, to Edward, that she was impatient with the person behind the camera but resigned to the idea of her picture being taken. Under other circumstances, he might have been amused by her expression. Now, he was haunted.

Rubbing his hands over his eyes, Edward shook his head at Agent Ricci. "That's not how the service works. You only have access to pictures of people you match with on some level," he said absently, feeling sick and guilty.

A program he designed had put this woman in harm's way.

Any other day, Edward was happy to talk about his programs with pride. He'd taken great care with each of them, taking into account the psychology of the psyche, which wasn't often scientifically logical. For instance, a person with a higher propensity for liking animals would never be paired with someone who was indifferent or disdainful about the subject. Animals were a hot button issue, so to speak, and otherwise compatible people might forget all the ways they were similar if they disagreed on one fact. Animals could be a deal breaker.

Even if they didn't find love, Edward's clients typically found lasting friendships. He liked to think he was in the business of kindred spirits, which was a beautiful connection that could and often would outlast most adult romantic relationships. It was easier to keep a friend for a lifetime than it was to keep a lover, after all.

This wasn't supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to lead maniacs to innocent people.

The agents had warned him that the press would get wind of this situation soon, and when they did, Edward and his company would be in the hotseat. Right then, Edward couldn't care less, but he knew he had so many other people to think about. He would need to call his brother-in-law soon. Jasper Whitlock was a business lawyer and an intuitive person. He would know what to say to the press.

In an ideal world, Edward's apologies would be reserved for Isabella and Isabella only. But then, in an ideal world, this never would have happened.

"Do you think her family would see me?" Edward asked quietly.

Agent Ricci grimaced. "It seems Miss Swan has no family," he said quietly. "Her parents, grandparents... they're all dead. No brothers or sisters. No aunts or uncles."

The knot in Edward's stomach grew along with the lump in his throat.

They'd said earlier it was likely Newton had abducted her after their date on Wednesday night. No one noticed she was missing until Friday night.

No one noticed.

Edward's sister had often accused him of being reclusive, and he supposed it wasn't far from the truth. It had taken the police some time to track him down because he had rented apartments all over the city with the specific intention of being able to get away from everyone anytime he wished. The irony of his situation was always that he couldn't find for himself what he could see for others. He had few friends and no lovers.

But if he'd gone missing one night, it wouldn't have taken long for someone to figure it out.

When he slept in late, his best friend and CFO Ben Cheney would call him to get him up. He would have known then, when only hours had passed.

Or his mother would have called by noon. Sometimes Edward was annoyed at how frequently his mother called just to chat, just to check in.

Or Alice would have dropped by for something.

Somebody would have known. It wouldn't have been days.

"There's a friend though," Agent Ricci continued. "The friend who reported her missing. I'll ask her if it would be okay for you to contact her," he offered.

Edward nodded tightly. "Yes. Please."

The man walked off to see what he could arrange, and Edward sunk into a chair in a quiet corner. His arms ached from being crossed so tightly. His head pounded as he wracked his brain, wondering what he could do. His heart hurt for this woman, knowing wherever she was she was likely in pain or, at the very least, she was terrified.

After a moment of quiet, too restless to watch everyone else working to find this woman while he felt so helpless, Edward dragged his laptop out. Logging in, he found Isabella's profile.

There was little information on her page. It was obvious she wasn't one of the hardcore users who took every survey and obsessed over every inch of her profile. Only the barest information was offered up. She was 24 years old. Though he'd been told they found evidence of the abduction from a house she owned in Forks, her hometown was listed as Seattle. There was a smattering of lyrics in the favorite quotes section, most of which Edward recognized, and very little else.

If she was alone in the world, in Edward's estimation she'd already been through enough.

A niggling voice in the back of his head whispered that she was probably already dead. Wasn't that a statistic he'd heard? The first 24 hours were crucial, and they'd slipped away while no one was the wiser. Angrily, Edward pushed that voice away.

It couldn't be true. It just couldn't.

Even in this one still image, she seemed to bounce off the page. Her eyes were so full of life, he refused to imagine them closed, her expression slack in death.

Because if she was dead, he would never have the chance to set this right. Whatever it took to make it up to her - what he'd unwittingly put her through - Edward was determined to do it. Anything she wanted. He had the means. He would make sure she never suffered again.

They only had to find her.

_I'm sorry_, he thought to the woman, running his fingers over her pretty face. _I'm so, so sorry_.

_**~0~**_

There were fingers on her face. Gentle fingers. Caressing fingers. "Wakey, wakey, pretty Bella. Come on. Wake up."

Bella woke with a whimper and cringed. Though she was already coiled tight, her legs tucked up against her chest and her body pushed as far against the corner as she could get, she tucked herself even tighter, trying to escape his touch though she had nowhere to go.

"Look at me, pretty girl. I have some water for you. Hmm? Water."

He spoke to her like she was a dog or a small child. It made her sick. Everything about him made her sick.

But she was dreadfully thirsty. Her mouth and throat were uncomfortably dry and had been for hours. She breathed in through her nose, trying to find enough calm to turn her head. She couldn't show him how desperately afraid she was. Terror made it difficult to think, anyway, and she needed her wits about her. She had to be calm because her anger or her fear - they both upset him.

And when he was upset, things were very bad for her.

"Come on, Bella. You need to drink some water."

_Fucking psychotic asshole_. If he didn't have her tied up in his basement, she'd be doing just fine. She would be able to drink all the water she needed and maybe eat a little food beside.

Biting back her temper, Bella turned her head toward him. He 'helped' her, tilting her chin up and holding the glass to her dry, cracked lips. She drank. It hurt; her throat was bruised, but the water was ice cold and delicious. The icy water soothed her throat even though swallowing was painful. She leaned into the glass, drinking greedily.

"Careful now. Slowly, or you're going to throw up again."

She wanted to tell him to fuck off and die. The first night, she hadn't thrown up because she drank too fast, she'd thrown up because her stomach revolted when he touched her.

_Also, asshole, an upset stomach happens when you pump someone full of drugs. _

Her thoughts still felt sluggish, but that probably had more to do with hunger and thirst than any drugs still in her system.

Mike set the glass down on the floor behind him and sat next to her.

Bella's heart sped. She tugged at her binds, wincing when the rope bit into her already chafed skin. Her wrists were bound together to a metal shelving unit, where he'd brought her the night before.

At least she assumed it was the night before. Time was bent and warped in this place.

Mike began running his fingers down the side of her neck. "Look at me."

Bella hesitated.

Mike's fingers went to her chin, forcing her head up. "Look at me." His tone was rougher.

Swallowing back a whimper, Bella took a deep breath and lifted her head, silently repeating the mantra she'd adapted every time she had to look him in the eyes.

_You are not going to be the last face I see. You are not going to be my murderer. I have things to do, and I'm going to do them._

When her eyes met his, he smiled gently, fitting his palm to her cheek. "Have you calmed down from last night, hmm? Have you learned your lesson?"

She doubted he really wanted an answer, and so she waited. Sure enough, he went on without a word from her.

"I hope you get it now. I really don't want to hurt you, but I will if it's for your own good - for us." He was patting her cheek gently. She tried not to flinch. If he noticed her discomfort, Mike didn't acknowledge it but continued speaking serenely. "You and me, baby? We're gonna be stardust.

"See, my mother always taught me that relationships were a lot of hard work. Sometimes, you have to do the hard thing, stand up and be a man." She'd been trying to look away. He tightened his grip on her chin, forcing her to look at him again. "A man needs to know how to keep his woman in line."

Bella bit the inside of her cheek. His placid tone was maddening. His words were maddening. Surely, he had to be playing some misguided and elaborate joke. He had to be. No one was this delusional.

What did the world look like in this man's head?

But he wasn't playing. He was entirely serious. She knew from experience he believed every word he said. His reality existed in a delicate and fragile web of lies he told himself. It didn't seem to matter to him what she wanted, what she said, or how much she fought, as far as he was concerned, she belonged to him - they were meant to be together.

She'd also seen first hand, experienced, what happened when someone threatened that reality.

"I need you to understand. I know your type. You're... spirited. Uppity. If you just calm down, you'll see what I see." His fingers were playing at the edge of her shirt now, making her stomach twist with anxiety. "We really are perfect for each other. When you realize that, life will be so, so good, and I won't have to do things like this."

Nausea made it difficult to keep even the little bit of water down. She breathed shallowly, tears pricking the corner of her eyes, as he pulled the sleeve of her shirt down, exposing her neck and shoulder. He pressed a kiss to her skin. Bella squeezed her eyes shut tightly, twisting her wrists, trying desperately both to get free and to keep the rest of her body still.

Her survival depended on keeping him from getting angry again.

"Oh, what's this?" He pulled her shirt further down her back. He sounded amused. "You have a tattoo."

_Several, but you're not seeing the others_, she thought. "D-do you like tattoos?"

"Not really."

Bella managed to swallow back the whine at the back of her throat. He was tugging at her shirt to see the tattoo on her shoulder better. The fabric was ripping.

"This one is kind of cool, though. I suppose." He ran the tip of his finger over it, tracing the lines. "Pretty."

Bella's temper flared. She almost snarled at him not to touch it. She almost started crying. Her tattoos were important to her, and somehow, of everything he'd done, this was the worst violation he had yet to inflict on her. What hurt even worse was this one was meant to symbolize her parents - an ethereal sliver of moon engulfing the steadfast earth.

He kissed her shoulder again. "If you can keep on your best behavior, you can come upstairs for dinner tonight. Would you like that?" He was trailing kisses up her neck to her chin. "Would you like to have dinner with me?"

He'd pressed two of his fingers to her cheek, turning her head toward him, his lips questing along her chin.

Upstairs was closer to freedom. The more time she spent upstairs, the more likely she could figure how to get away.

Her eyes flitted to the narrow stairwell leading to the first story, out of the basement she'd been trapped in for two days.

Anything, anything to get out.

She turned her head slightly, letting her lips brush his. She had to swallow back the bile that rose to her throat as, grinning against her lips, Mike took the initiative and kissed her.

Lingering as long as she could, Bella covered her sob with a soft gasp as she tilted her head down, breaking their kiss. "I, um. Yeah. That would be nice."

Mike seemed pleased. "We can try talking again."

"Yeah. I-I-I'd like that." She kept her head turned away so he couldn't see her eyes welling with tears.

He petted her hair gently. "This is going to work - you and me. I got it right. I really got it right this time." He climbed to his feet.

Relief flooded through her, and Bella scrambled to jump start her brain again. "Hey, um. Mike?"

He'd been a few steps away from her but paused.

Taking another breath to steady herself, Bella looked up at him, managing a smile. "Can you, maybe..." She lifted her arms, indicating the ropes around her wrist.

He reached down, tapping her chin with his fingers. "Pretty Bella. I'm smarter than that. I've made some mistakes with my girls before." Leaning down, his hands on his knees, he grinned at her. "I'm not taking any chances. I'm not going to let you screw this up for us."

Kissing her forehead, he patted her cheek one last time and went up the stairs. Bella flinched when she heard the door close and the click of the lock sliding into place.

As soon as she was sure he wasn't coming back, Bella gasped, sucking in gulps of air. Her body was wracked with tremors, and she cried quietly, inconsolably, her head against her aching arms.

_Keep it together._

She allowed herself the tears she couldn't stop and breathed deep, trying to find her calm again. Fear threatened to send her right out of her mind, and she knew she couldn't let it.

_I'm getting out of here. I'm not going to die here._

The vice grip around her lungs tightened, her breath more strangled when she ran the conversation over and over in her head.

It wasn't the first time he referred to her as one of his girls. Mike's choice of words made for one frightening question.

If she was just one of his girls, what had happened to the others?

* * *

**A/N: Thoughts? Theories?**

**Are we relieved Edward isn't an accomplice?**

**Many thanks go jfka06, barburella, GinnyW, and Shug - I am not worthy.**


	3. Waiting Game

**A/N: *holding hands***

* * *

Somehow, Mike had built up a woman in his head that didn't actually exist. He'd picked out tiny traits and simple comments, amplifying them to suit what he wanted to hear. He was in love with this woman, completely enamored of her.

The only Bella he knew was the one he'd created in his own twisted mind.

"Ah, Bella. We can talk for hours without running out of words, can't we?"

Bella bit the inside of her cheek. A furious and sarcastic comment was on the tip of her tongue, but she kept it bound as tightly as she was. After all, she was on her best behavior. That was how she'd earned the happy privilege of sitting here at this table, conversing.

The table was upstairs though, closer to the door. The table was closer to freedom.

"It's nice," she said in case he expected an answer.

His smile was so adoring. He cut another piece of chicken and held it to her lips. Bella's stomach churned, he made her so sick, but she leaned forward, taking the chicken between her teeth. Denying herself sustenance wouldn't help. She had to be as strong as possible in case a chance to escape arose.

She bowed her head so she wouldn't have to look at him as she chewed. Instead, she looked down at her wrists, bound tightly to either arm of the chair.

This is how he kept her attention so concentrated on him. She was literally a captive audience.

He fed her another bite of dinner, and Bella let her mind wander as she chewed. She stared at her skin, bitterly fascinated by the way the individual threads of of the thick rope that bound her were stained with blood. The rope bit into her flesh constantly, and Mike kept her tied up except for when he let her use the bathroom.

He kept her powerless.

Bella's heart skipped a beat and she gave a short cry of surprise when Mike grabbed her chair, jerking her forward. His ice blue eyes were narrowed, brimming with irritation. "I asked you a question." His voice was low, dangerous.

"I-I-I'm sorry," she stuttered quickly. Her heart was beating so fast against her chest, she could hardly hear for the blood pounding through her ears. "I just spaced out, that's all. I d-d-didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

He'd pulled her chair so her legs were touching the front of his chair. His legs were spread on the outside. They were face to face. As he studied her, Bella tried hard to keep her breath steady, but she couldn't help the tiny, frightened whimpers that escaped or the way her body tensed, waiting for his reaction.

He raised his hand and Bella flinched, but he only rested it briefly against her cheek. He began to stroke her skin. Her cheek. Her chin. He petted her neck with his whole hand, stroking methodically as he began to speak. "It's rude not to listen when someone's talking, Bella. Little children know that."

His pets were getting rougher. He was pressing down on her neck, making it difficult for her to breathe. "Please," she whispered, terrified.

"I'm beginning to think your momma didn't teach you right, didn't teach you how to be a good girl."

Despite her best efforts, a tear spilled over, trailing down her cheek. Fear and the pressure of his palm bearing down on her throat made it nearly impossible to speak. "I'm sorry," she managed in a croak. "I'll be good. Please."

He leaned down so they were nose to nose. "Do you know what my mother did to me when I was rude? Do you?"

She could only stare at him, wide-eyed.

He lifted his hand from her neck and Bella wheezed, sucking in deep breaths. Her eyes watered, and when he held his hand in front of her face, she couldn't immediately figure what he was trying to show her. When she focused on his hand, she gasped.

She hadn't noticed before, but the palm of his right hand was mangled, badly scarred.

Watching her horrified reaction, Mike smirked.

He stood suddenly and Bella couldn't help her yelp as he dragged her chair over to the stove. Bella jumped when he clicked the fire on. The lump in her throat grew, and her heart beat so fast, she was surprised it didn't explode.

Oblivious or simply not caring about how frightened she was, Mike rummaged through the drawer closest to stove. He pulled out a wicked looking knife with wooden handle and held the metal part over the flame.

That was when it occurred to Bella the lines of his scars had a shape... the shape that might appear if someone held a knife just that size against his palm. She swallowed hard, ignoring the pain in her throat. "Mike, please. It was a mistake. It won't happen again."

He chuffed. "That's what I said every time, but it took me awhile to really learn." He held his hand up again. "See?"

Now that she knew what she was looking at, she saw five distinct scars, each bearing the shape of the knife.

Clicking the stove off, he brought the knife away from the flame and stood in front of her. "But I did learn, and I was just a little boy. What's your excuse? You should know better."

Her eyes were frozen on the knife and the way it glowed molten red around the edges. She was shaking, her body so tense it ached. "It was an accident." She was well aware her voice was just a whine, but she couldn't care about that, not now. "Please."

She gave a short scream when he wrapped her hair around his free hand, yanking her head back. Bella closed her eyes, biting her tongue to keep from begging. She could feel the heat from the metal as he held the knife above her collarbone.

"Look at me!" Mike demanded, his hand tightening in her hair.

Not daring to disobey, Bella opened her eyes.

"Do you have something to say to me?"

Bella scrambled, trying to find the right words. "I'm sorry for not listening," she said quickly. There was hardly any volume to her voice. "It won't happen again. I promise. I'm so sorry."

He studied her intently, but he nodded, his look satisfied. "Maybe I'm just a fool, but I believe you." He tossed the knife toward the sink, and Bella cried softly, shaking with relief. She gasped again when he gave her hair a little yank and moved so his face was only an inch from hers. "You're not going to make me regret being lenient, right?"

Despite the grip he had on her hair, she shook her head minutely, frantically. "No. Th-th-thank you."

He released her, standing up straight to look down on her. The tender look was back and Bella couldn't help but cringe as he lifted his hand, stroking the tears off her cheeks with the pads of his fingers. "Momma... she could be a little hard sometimes," he mused, his tone a little far off. "But I learned well. I did learn well. You gotta pay for your transgressions."

Bella almost had her breathing under control though she was still trembling, still trying to get a handle on her tears. She sniffled, her thoughts becoming coherent again.

It wasn't the first time he'd mentioned his mother.

It was obvious she wasn't going to be able to overpower him. Her hands were hardly ever free, and it didn't seem like she was gaining his trust at any good pace. Bella was aware she needed something else, though what that was she had no idea.

Information. She did need more information.

"Tell me... Tell me more about your mother," she requested in a tiny voice, trying to distract him into conversation.

The look in his eyes darkened then, and there was a maniacal glint to them as he smiled slowly. There was a strange sing-song quality to his tone when he spoke then. "Momma? Oh, she had to pay for her transgressions, too. She had to be made sorry for what she did. It was her fault. It was her fault I lost the first one."

The blood in her veins seemed to have been replaced by ice water, and Bella shuddered. Still looking a little crazed, Mike took out his pocket knife and released her from her binds, yanking her to her feet. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her tight against him.

Though her hands were free, Bella didn't dare retaliate then. His grip around her was steadfast - almost bruising - and as he stared at her, he placed the tip of the knife against her cheek. His expression was cool, almost dispassionate as he dragged the blade down, skimming it across her chin and pressing it against her neck all without putting on pressure enough to break the skin..

She whimpered and he snickered.

When he leaned down to kiss her, Bella finally let her eyes close again, willing her body to be calm, still, despite her abhorrence. She wanted to run so badly, but she couldn't. Not yet.

_You are not going to be the last face I see. You are not going to be my murderer. I have things to do, and I'm going to do them._

**_~0~_**

Edward stirred his coffee, staring distractedly as the foam moved and coalesced atop the deep brown. He poured creamer in, watching as the dark brown lightened.

Setting down the creamer, he rubbed his eyes. He'd never been this tired in his entire life, and he'd spent days on end both coding and gaming before. This weariness was different. His soul felt worn down and tired.

Everything reminded him of the woman. The color of the coffee was her eyes and hair. The foam made a design he imagined to be a mouth wide and screaming with unfathomable pain.

Furiously, he scooped the foam out of the cup, trying not to think about that.

He glanced up in time to see a statuesque blond followed by a linebacker of a man enter the diner. He recognized the tension in their shoulders, the heavy set of their brows and mouths. They were understandably stressed and grieving, worried.

Standing, he raised his hand in greeting, and they made their way over to him, the blond looking wary.

"Rosalie Hale?" Edward asked, his voice soft when they were in hearing range.

The blond jerked her head in a nod, and Edward offered his hand. "I'm Edward Cullen."

Rosalie looked at his hand as if it was filthy, her eyes narrowing. "Look, the only reason I agreed to meet you was to see what your deal is. It's disgusting that you're only thinking about your image when my friend-"

Edward held his hands out, palm up, imploring her to stop. "I'm sorry. What is it you think I'm doing here?"

"Making excuses, I'll bet. Hoping we won't Bella won't sue you and your company when we find her," Rosalie snapped.

"Rose," the large man admonished softly, his hands on her shoulders.

Edward breathed deep, steadying his nerves and calming his irritation. He gestured to the booth. "Please, have a seat."

Rosalie glared, but she did sit. The large man offered his hand. "I'm Emmett McCarty, by the way," he said. "Rosalie's fiance."

"I wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you, but under the circumstances, I'd really rather we never met," Edward said quietly, sincerely.

Emmett gave a tight nod. "Yeah. I hear you."

They sat, and Edward leaned across the table, his hands folded. "As to your accusation, I'd like to assure you I'm not here on my or my company's behalf. In fact, my legal team would have advised me _not_to speak with you, Ms. Hale."

She quirked a finely manicured eyebrow. "Would have?"

"They all knew well enough that I wouldn't have listened, not about this. Frankly, I didn't ask for their permission." He let out a sigh. "I asked to see you because..." He'd rehearsed this so many times, so many times, but the words were difficult. He swallowed, hardly able to speak with the emotion that welled in his throat. "I can't tell you how sorry I am."

"Yeah, I already read the statement your company released. It was never your intention, blah, blah, blah." Rosalie's eyes were hard, her expression furious.

"I wanted to speak to you before that statement had to be released, but you can't always get what you want. We had to say something, and the FBI hadn't put me in contact with you yet. I can tell you right now, what happens to my business is a secondary concern to me."

She scoffed. "I'm sure. You're just like all the others, all the reporters and people coming out of the woodwork to tell me how much they care. You don't care. You don't know her. You don't love her."

Edward looked at her steadily. "Well, I must admit my reasons for asking you here aren't entirely altruistic. The truth is..." He hesitated. Occasionally, he said the exact wrong thing in social situations, though who could possibly be prepared for an occasion like this. Was there a right thing to say? "The truth is, I do want to know her."

If anything, her glare became even more livid. "Is this is some fucked up curiosity-"

"No. No. Nothing like that." Edward ran a hand through his hair, restless. "You have no reason to believe me, but I am just so sick about this. About everything. That it was my program that brought them together..." He shook his head head, unable to continue.

"Come on," Emmett said. "That's like the designer of the New York subway system feeling bad anytime someone's mugged on one of their trains. It wasn't your fault any more than it was Rosie's fault for encouraging Bella to go on this date."

At that, Rosalie's harsh face crumpled, a despairing look coming over her. She pressed the palm of her hand to her lips hard, closing her eyes.

"Still," Edward said gently. "I know something of how maddening it is, when someone you love is victimized, to hear empty sympathy. I realize I have no right to ask this, but please. If you tell me about her, I swear I'll listen. No stunts, no games. I just want to know more about her."

Rosalie looked at him with watery eyes. Then her shoulders slumped and her tears spilled over. Leaning into her fiance, she cried for a time, unable to speak.

So it was Emmett who started. "Bella is pretty much one of the most awesome chicks you're ever going to meet. And she's strong. So strong. If anyone could make it through whatever this is, it's going to be her."

**_~0~_**

Bella was never so close to breaking as she was when his hands were on her.

Then, she felt no semblance of strength or self preservation. There was nothing, nothing, more important to her than stopping him from touching her. Logically, she knew her life depended on playing into his game - that she was somehow a willing participant in all this. Logic was hard to hold onto, especially at night when he put her to bed. Anything was preferable, even death.

She supposed the one mercy of this whole situation was that Mike fancied himself quite a romantic. Every night, when she wasn't shackled to the shelf being punished, he forced her down on a twin sized bed in the opposite corner of the basement. He tied her wrists to the headboard, and always, always, spent some time kissing her, brushing his hands down her body.

When her distress came out in little noises, whimpers and whines at the back of her throat, he would laugh, thinking it was because she wanted him.

More than once he'd put his finger to her lips, gently admonishing her._ "I know it's hard to wait, but believe me, it's better this way. I ruined it before, going too fast. It's not gonna be that way with us. It's gonna be perfect."_

It was already too much of an invasion on her body - when he thrust his tongue in her mouth. It was worse when his fingers moved along her side, caressing as though she were his lover, as though she'd given him this right to touch her so intimately. She writhed, desperate to be away from him because nothing had ever felt this vile. Every night, when he finally went back upstairs, it left her sobbing and destroyed, her skin crawling, her body trembling with fear and disgust.

And angry. Good God, she was so angry. She was furious at her helplessness. She'd searched. She needed an out, like in the movies where some wayward piece of glass might be within reach of her fingers, but there was nothing.

She tried to tell herself it was just a matter of time. If she could be calm, keep her head, an opportunity would present itself. She just needed to be ready to run.

But she also knew it was only a matter of time before Mike went further, irrevocably further.

Logically, she knew if he was going to attack her, he could do it at any time, but being tied to a bed with him hovering over her was just that much more nerve wracking. So Bella was already on edge when he led her back down into the basement, his hand around her elbow, leading her down the stairs. Her wrists were bound together in front of her, as usual.

He walked with her to the bed, but rather than guide her down onto her back as he typically did, he sat and pulled her down onto his lap.

Bella couldn't breathe. Instinctively, she pitched her body forward, but he held her tight around the waist, keeping her anchored.

"I have something for you," he said, kissing the side of her hair. "When we talked earlier and you mentioned how much you loved ballet, I knew I'd made the right choice. It was a sign, Bella. You're the one."

Knowing she couldn't be caught in an outright lie, Bella had taken to telling him half truths when he asked questions. She viciously protected her real life - he didn't deserve her stories. So while it was true she'd taken ballet as a child, it was completely false that she'd loved it. She'd hated it. She'd cried and cried until her mother let her quit.

Mike held his hand out, showing her what looked to be a small, square jewelry box. "Go ahead, open it."

Bella's fingers were trembling as she tried to get a hold of the top of the box. She was just waiting for the next sick thing. What if there was a finger in here?

But when she opened the box, all she saw was a gold chain. "It's, uh... it's beautiful. Thank you."

Mike laughed. "You're so stupid sometimes, Bella. It's just a chain."

_Crazy fucking bastard._

"This is the real gift." He dug into his pocket taking out what looked to be a charm bracelet, though it only had one charm: a tarnished silver pair of ballet shoes. "This was my mother's bracelet," he said as he undid the charm from its hook and slid it onto the chain.

He swept her hair off to one shoulder, putting the necklace around her neck. Bella's eyes were on the bracelet and its missing charms. "Thank you," she said again in a small voice. "I really love it."

"I knew you would. It's special." He was kissing along her cheek. "You know how serious I am, giving you something of my mother's. And this bracelet? She never took it off." His hands were rubbing, one skimming around the line of her pants, the other beginning to inch up below her breasts.

On the verge of a panic attack, Bella scrambled for something to distract him. "Wh-where are the other charms?"

His hands on her stilled for a heartbeat before they tightened hard enough that she gasped. He moved quickly then, throwing her off him onto the bed on her back while he stood flaring down at her.

His glower was terrifying. "Are you going to fuck this up with your ridiculous jealousy?" He leaned over her, holding himself up with his hands on either side of her. "I told you before, Bella. They were mistakes. Every one of them." He leaned down further, and Bella shrank back, as though she could disappear into the bed. "They paid for the mistakes they made. They paid for what they did to us."

Bella turned her head away as he lowered himself down, grinding his body against hers, letting all his weight rest on top of her. He took her face in his hands, holding her head still to look up at him. "I need you to be good, do you understand? I don't want to have to do to you what I had to do to the others." He was squeezing her face frighteningly hard. "You're supposed to be the one. You're perfect. You have to be."

They were both breathing hard. Mike squeezed his eyes shut, gradually loosening his grip on her face. He tilted his head down, crushing her lips with his in a bruising kiss. "You be good," he muttered, his tone almost gentle again. "You be good, and don't make me hurt you. I don't want to hurt you."

"Okay." Bella's voice was a shaky squeak. She forced herself to look him in the eyes. "I'm sorry. I swear I wasn't jealous. I was just curious. I promise, I didn't mean anything by it."

He studied her, suspicious at first, but then he relaxed, letting out a long breath. He kissed her again, soft this time. "That's my good girl," he murmured against her lips.

That night, he didn't leave. He only rolled off her, but kept his arms around her, kept murmuring in her ear as his hands roamed her body. Bella was only glad he kept her spooned against him, her back to his chest, so he couldn't see the silent tears that streamed down her cheeks or the way she had to bite her lip to keep from screaming.

Long after he'd fallen asleep, Bella was awake, trembling. It was more than the filthy feeling that lingered on her skin even though his hands had stilled. It was a knowledge that went bone deep, a fact she'd been denying in the week she'd spent in this hell, telling herself over and over again that she would find a way to break free.

It was the answer to her questions. Why did he seem to have so many womens clothes available? Every time he pushed her into the little bathroom to bathe, there was always a stack of clean clothes in a small range of sizes and styles.

Then there were the rules. It seemed he'd always learned from 'the last time', learned from his mistakes - and _hers_, whoever the her in question was.

She had to face the facts that his other girls had been exactly where she was.

And she had to face the fact they likely hadn't survived.

The empty spaces on the bracelet where charms no doubt used to hang haunted her. From her quick glance, she guessed there six to eight charms on that bracelet at one point or another.

The pair of ballet slippers that now hung around her neck was the last charm.

* * *

**A/N: How are we doing out there, babettes? Talk to me.**

**Thanks to barburella, ginnyw, and big smooches to jfka06 who beta'ed this so I'd have something to post on my birthday. She knows how much I love hearing from you guise.**


	4. Darkest Before the Dawn

**Dedication: Oh, dear. It's tellingmelies's birthday and I asked her what she wanted me to update. She wanted me to update this story. So, my lovely, happy birthday. Your wish. My command. I love you.**

**A/N: But on that note... well... *holds everyone's hands***

* * *

"You're doing everything you can, Mr. Cullen. You're actually doing much more than you need to."

Agent Ricci's patience was wearing thin. Edward had been in his office often in the last ten days. As much as Edward kept trying to tell himself not to be a pain in the ass, to stay out of the way, he couldn't stop.

There was limited information Agent Ricci could release seeing as Edward wasn't family or even a close friend. It was a huge point of contention. Even Rosalie wasn't privy to all the information she wanted. Most of what he knew for sure was what the FBI had used his company to discover.

Mike had visited Bella's profile an unreal amount of times - obsessively. He'd logged in from no less than fifteen computers - all of them public, most of them in Seattle. According to Rose, he'd told Bella he was from Tacoma. Their on-site chat history was innocuous. Mike seemed to think they were a match made in heaven because they'd both disliked some little movie, or both enjoyed tea over coffee. He suggested they get together several times before Bella finally gave in.

"_My fault_," Rosalie had said, her eyes brimming with guilt and tears. "_I was standing over her, arguing." Her laugh was somewhat maniacal - a painful sound. "I told her it couldn't hurt_."

Mike had filled out every single survey the site had and had subsequently been granted access to sixty women.

That was sixty women Edward had likely never met that he'd unknowingly put in danger.

Bella's face haunted his dreams when he managed to fall asleep. It was a ridiculous thought given that he'd never met the woman, but from talking to her friends, he felt like he knew her.

At least, he thought he understood - on a shallow level, he was sure - what the world stood to lose if she wasn't found.

That was what drove him to visit Agent Ricci's office offering whatever help he could. He'd already purchased nationwide airtime, had posters distributed, and done whatever he could to get both Mike and Bella's faces out there.

"There must be something else. Anything," Edward growled, pacing the office.

Agent Ricci sighed. "Please have a seat a moment."

Edward did, if only because he would do anything the agent told him, imagining it would help Bella somehow.

The agent looked indecisive, but leaned across his desk, his voice low. "I'm going to trust that this conversation remains private," he said slowly, his eyes intent on Edward so he knew how serious this was. "It was only through your efforts that we got a break in the case, a young woman who may have known Mike Newton in the past."

Edward sat up straighter in his chair. This was another tidbit he'd gleaned from speaking to the agents and Rosalie. At first, Mike Newton seemed to have just appeared out of thin air. There was no record of the man existing until he'd rented a room in a house in Tacoma - paying in cash.

"Apparently, a Mike Newton did attend high school with this young woman in Sacramento, CA. There are no guarantees of course, but we're following this lead. A lead we likely would have found much later without your assistance - which I will deny admitting if this conversation should ever come up again." He looked at Edward pointedly.

"I'm not going to rat you out," Edward murmured distractedly.

"Waiting is difficult, Mr. Cullen. You know I understand that. You've done what you can."

Edward grimaced and almost laughed. He knew the agent was trying to be soothing, but the man's voice was naturally flat.

"We'll let you know if you can be of help. You have my word," Ricci continued. "I hope you'll forgive me for saying so, sir, but maybe the best thing you can do is pay attention to your own company. You employ a lot of people, and I know it can't be easy to weather the media storm this has created."

This was true, and something Edward wasn't at all sure how to deal with. After learning of what had happened - how Mike had targeted Bella - it was Edward's first impulse to shut the site down. But how could he? As Marcus had pointed out, he employed quite a number of people.

"Back to business," Edward muttered, rubbing the back of his neck restlessly. "It's just difficult. I can't imagine what she must be going through."

Marcus's eyes tightened, his smile sad. "That, Mr. Cullen, is my business."

_**~0~**_

It was the tenth day when Bella's time ran out. Whatever timeline Mike had in his head, apparently, the countdown was complete.

That morning, he looked so chipper when he came down to untie her, she was instantly ten times as nervous. He'd kissed her cheek and taken her upstairs to a breakfast of waffles with all the fixings.

He pulled her down on his lap to eat, feeding her bite by bite. As they ate he nuzzled the side of her neck, her hair. Bella managed only a few bites before she couldn't force herself to swallow anymore. Her stomach was made of stone, her insides twisting uncomfortably around the solid mass so she heaved, only barely managing to keep her breakfast down.

Luckily, Mike accepted her explanation that she wasn't very hungry with good grace. He set her on her feet and looked on her adoringly, tracing the shape of her face with his fingertips. She wondered what he saw. She knew her cheeks were tear streaked, and she trembled constantly. Though she played along as well as she could to his game, she knew her smiles were only half formed, and it wasn't possible she could hide her revulsion constantly.

What did his deranged world look like?

When the breakfast dishes were cleaned and put away, he led her to the couch in the living room, again pulling her down onto his lap rather than letting her sit on her own. "I've got so many plans for you, pretty Bella," he said against her ear, sending an unpleasant chill down her spine. His right hand was brushing her waistline, beginning to snake down between her legs, caressing, rubbing.

Despite the wounds around her wrists that never healed, Bella could never stop herself from tugging at her bindings, trying to free her hands, though who knew what she would do if they were free.

He took away so many of her options. As desperate as she was to get away, if only in her own head, she had to keep herself in the present. She couldn't risk his anger if she missed another cue, another question he expected an answer for.

What could she do but endure? She'd never felt so utterly filthy in her life. It took every ounce of her willpower to keep her body relatively still when what she wanted was to do something, anything, to get his hands off her.

His fingers slipped under the hemline of the sweatpants she wore, and Bella bit the inside of her cheek, whimpering quietly.

"It's going to be so good to be inside you, baby." His voice was a rumble, gravelly, dripping with lust. "I've been waiting a long time for you, so long." He thrust up so she felt his erection easily. "You feel that? That's all for you, pretty Bella. You see what you do to me?"

Bella was on the verge of hyperventilation, her breath coming in gasps Mike conveniently took as pleasure. Her head space was chaotic, a tirade of furious, frightened, repulsed words echoing over and over again as he rubbed her clit in slow circles.

_You sick fuck. Get your fucking hands off me. Fucking lunatic. I loathe you. I can't stand the sight of you. Get away, get away, getthefuckawayfromme._

"M-m-mike?" The voice in her head was pissed the hell off. In reality, she had so little air in her lungs, the word was a mere squeak. "H-honey, please. I need to..." She gulped and tried again. It was difficult to speak when she was shaking so badly. "I need to go to the restroom. Please? I'm sorry."

He grumbled, but his hand slipped out of her pants and he stood. Rather than let her go, he looped his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest, rubbing his erection against her ass. "It's probably better. You need to get ready." He kissed her shoulder, the side of her neck through her hair. "It's going to be so good. So, so good."

Bella pressed her tongue up against the roof of her mouth to keep from screaming. She kept her jaw clenched tight as Mike led her to the bathroom, held her body rigid as he dug his pocketknife out and cut the rope from around her wrists. She looked studiously down at the floor as he patted her cheek.

"I'll bring your clothes." He leaned close to her, his tone teasing as he whispered in her ear. "Not that you'll need them for long."

Bella's stomach churned, but she managed not to lose what little breakfast she'd eaten until she was safely in the shower with the water running to cover her retching.

In the shower, her legs gave out and she sunk to her knees, hunched over, quivering as she sobbed uncontrollably.

When the door to the bathroom opened, she clapped her hand over her mouth to cover the noise of her weeping.

"Don't be too long now, pretty girl. You know I'm just going to make you all dirty again."

There was nothing left in her stomach, but that didn't keep her from dry heaving as the bathroom door closed again.

Bella rested her forehead against the floor of the tub, letting the hot water cascade over her naked body. It didn't matter how long or hard she bathed, the filthy feeling never left her skin. She could only imagine how much worse this was going to be.

It was minutes before she had the strength to stand. Even then, her legs were wobbly at best. She had to lean against the wall to keep herself upright.

What she wanted was to stay in this shower forever, but she knew better. He would only come get her then. He was probably already getting impatient. The thought made her mewl - a whine at the back of her throat.

Wrapping herself in the towel he'd provided, Bella stepped out of the shower, stumbling forward to catch herself on the edge of the counter. She was trembling, and it was another minute before she could lift her head to look in the mirror.

The girl there was a shadow of the woman she'd been. She was gaunt, with dark circles under her eyes that suggested it'd been years since she'd last slept. Her pallor was a sickly gray-green color. Her throat still carried the fading purple bruises from where his fingers had gripped her tight. And the fear... the fear was etched into her features, clear in her eyes.

Bella bowed her head again, biting her lip to keep from sobbing again.

There was one choice left: submission or death.

She could try to fight him, but he was twice her size, strong, and absolutely lethal when he was angry. And she was sure, even in this act of 'love', he would probably tie her up - since this was what one did with their consenting, willing partners in his warped little world. She could try to fight, but she would likely fail, and if she failed he would kill her.

Bella had no delusions about the others anymore. The others that had come before her had all made a mistake somewhere and had paid with their lives.

For a moment, Bella felt dizzy.

Death was preferable, wasn't it? To this? If she fought him - even yelled at him - maybe it would be over in minutes. It would all be over. She would never have to feel his hands on her body, his voice in her ear again.

Escape. Death was escape. Maybe it was her only escape.

Bella took shallow breaths, her head spinning wildly.

It was tempting, and that frightened her maybe more than anything. The instinct toward self-preservation, survival, was wavering - shaken to the bone.

The thought sparked the fury in her again.

Fuck that.

She was going to survive. She was going to live to see this sick fucker burn. She was going to be the one to hold his head under the water and watch until his face went slack.

What she needed was his trust. As much as the idea made her want to scream, he was in it for the long haul. This was forever for him.

He had to untie her at some point.

He had to let his guard down sometime.

And even if he didn't, surely someone was coming. They had his name, after all. Rosalie knew who'd she'd been out with. His picture was on his profile.

Not that he'd ventured far from this hellhole since he'd kidnapped her.

Shaking that thought away, Bella's eyes flicked up to the mirror again.

_I'm not going to die here. I have things to do, and I'm going to do them._

_**~0~**_

She could see the trees from his bedroom window.

In retrospect, it seemed like a strange thing to fixate on, all things considered. But she hadn't really seen the outside for ten days. When she wasn't in the basement, Mike kept the blinds drawn, but in his room there were curtains, and she could see outside through the slim crack where they met.

It was a little surreal watching the clouds roll by above the treetops like the world wasn't completely upside down and insane.

Like it wasn't crumbling to pieces all around her.

The clouds rolled by, threatening rain like it was any other day.

And Mike was on top of her. His weight was crushing and his grunts filled her ears.

But her head was turned to the side watching the clouds and the trees swaying gently in the wind.

There were tears hot on her cheeks, and the ever present bite of the rope on her wrists as Mike's movements jostled her, tugging as her arms were bound tightly above her head to his headboard.

Her mind was blank.

It was over in minutes and then he lay on top of her, his head resting against her shoulder, panting. The calm inside her was eerie, like she was shut off - a fleshy robot made of parts and nothing else.

Her soul was floating somewhere above her head, thoughts suspended.

Because if she started thinking, it was over.

Some part of her was well aware she was on a precipice. Below her was a craggy canyon littered with sharp edged rocks. If she thought, she would fall and her body would be dashed - twisted and broken and beyond anyone's reach.

Mike's fingers at her chin made Bella start. She closed her eyes as he tilted her head away from the trees.

She could not look at him.

Sated for the moment, he didn't seem to care, didn't protest at her lowered lids. He kissed her - soft, lingering - as though he were a lover.

Bella's mouth and throat were absolutely dry.

"I knew it would be good, but that was..." He chuckled and kissed her again.

After a moment of this, he rolled off of her, out of her, and into a sitting position on the bed. Bella opened her eyes, only vaguely aware of what she was seeing.

His back was littered with scars - long, raised welts criss-crossed his skin telling a story that might have sickened her if she wasn't so entirely dead inside. He'd been tortured once. He'd suffered a lot.

He twisted, turning to look at her with a serene smile and patted her cheek.

"I have a few things to do. You rest." He leaned down to kiss her once more before he mumbled against her lips, "I want you again. Soon. Very soon."

Then he was gone.

The room was silent save for her little gasps, wheezes as her breath came and went, strangled through the tightness in her chest and the lump in her throat.

Gradually, Bella became aware of other sensations besides the ache between her legs.

Her skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, the air chilling her body as she lay nude on top of the bed. Her tears left a trail of heat as they fell, one by one, from the corners of her eyes - a stark contrast to the otherwise cold temperature of her flesh, her insides.

As the minutes went by the weight on her heart and shoulders grew heavier, the invisible grip around her lungs tighter until she could barely breathe.

Degradation began to seep in, the emotion too strong, too loud to ignore. And once that emotion began to creep in around her psyche, the rest clamored for her attention.

Fury. Fear.

Shame.

Violation.

It was too much to withstand. Too much, and she was helpless to combat it, completely impotent to fight.

Tied up and entirely pathetic.

Helpless to do anything but weep as she fell from the edge and shattered against the unforgiving rocks below.

_**~0~**_

Edward couldn't sleep.

It shouldn't have been a surprise. He hadn't really slept in the eleven days he'd found out who Bella Swan was. His mind was always too preoccupied, wondering what horrors were being inflicted on this innocent woman. His body was too tense, waiting for officers to knock on his door again or for his phone to ring in the middle of the night.

He'd been waiting for it, but still, when his phone rang at three in the morning on the 13th day Bella had been missing, Edward jumped a mile. His heart leapt up into his throat, his breath became labored. He fumbled for his cell and dropped it twice before he was able to connect the call.

"Hello?" he answered gruffly.

All he heard on the other end was crying.

Taking the phone away from his ear only long enough to see who was calling, his stomach twisted, and he immediately broke out into a cold sweat, grief poised to drive a spike right through his heart.

Was this it?

"Rosalie?" His voice was raw, like metal grinding against metal. "Oh, God. Is she?"

"They found her," Rosalie managed between sobs.

For such a stoic woman, she was beside herself now, and Edward wanted to cry right along with her.

They found her body? Was she dead? God, no. She couldn't be. Not after all this.

"You wanted to know. She's in the the hospital."

Relief flooded through him, and Edward sunk back against his pillows. He swallowed hard, his eyes brimming with tears. "Tell me," he implored, knowing there was more.

"It's bad," was all she said.

Of course it was. It wouldn't have been easy - couldn't have. Edward closed his eyes tightly. "I will be right there."

* * *

**A/N: Everlasting thanks to GinnyW, barburella and Cris for getting me through this chapter.**

**How we doing out there, lovelies?**


	5. Safe

**A/N: So, tellingmelies demanded another chapter. She's not the birthday girl anymore, but how could I refuse. **

**Oh, my lovelies. Your responses to the last chapter blew me away. I love you all.**

* * *

The word safe meant very little to Bella now.

Once upon a time, she knew what that word meant. Safe was a state of mind. It was a warmth that went down to her bones and a blissful obliviousness to the dangers that could be lurking just around the corner, in the shadows of the trees that used to bring such beauty to her life, or in the hearts of seemingly innocent men with easy smiles.

Safety was an illusion.

"Easy, honey. Take it easy. You're safe now."

If she hadn't been hyperventilating with anxiety, she would have laughed.

Safe.

She wasn't ever going to be safe again.

_**~0~**_

When Edward arrived at the hospital, Rosalie was surprised to see him.

"I didn't think you'd actually come." Her voice sounded like she'd been a smoker since she was six. Her eyes were bloodshot. Normally, Rosalie was an intimidating presence even when she was sitting. Today she was tucked up against Emmett leaning hard.

"I said I'd be here," Edward said quietly.

"It shouldn't surprise me anymore. You do care." It was a statement.

Edward nodded, a little impatient. "Tell me," he requested. It took some effort to make his voice soft.

Rosalie's lower lip trembled, and she looked away. Emmett hugged her close. "I don't know much. She was already in surgery when we got here."

"Surgery?"

"Her arm was broken. Maybe for days." Her voice was tight, the tone and the spark in her eyes livid with fury. "They had to re-break it to set it right."

Rosalie stood and began to pace then, needing to let off steam. Edward understood the emotion. There was this pent up energy that had been trembling, vibrating beneath his skin throughout this entire ordeal. And now Bella was here, somewhere in this hospital, and still they were stuck - impotent to fix it.

Whatever it was.

They knew very little. Perhaps most important, Mike was in custody and Bella's injuries were not life threatening. Physically speaking, her broken arm was the worst injury she had.

"She was awake enough earlier that she asked them to call us and gave permissions for the doctors to speak to us," Rosalie said, wiping away the tears that had accumulated under her eyelashes. She pressed her lips together hard. "She was all alone. She was all alone when they did the..." She waved her hand helplessly.

Edward heard the word she didn't want to say. It was hanging over their heads, a physical presence in the room, heavy and oppressive, crushing, maddening.

Rosalie didn't have to say what the results were. When there had been no ransom demand for Bella, Edward had known the likelihood this psychopath would keep his hands to himself were slim to none. He'd hoped, of course, but no part of him was surprised.

He stood, needing to do something.

It occupied some time and alleviated not a single ounce of his guilt to be sure Bella's hospital bills would all come to him. He further arranged for her to have the biggest, most private suite in the place.

"You won't be able to see her, you know," Rosalie said when he returned to the waiting room.

"I'm aware of that."

"You can't bother her. I know you really care, but she doesn't know you."

"Rosalie," he called her name to stop her tirade. "Sometimes being there for someone means just that. I'm here. Not just for her but for you."

She studied him for a long moment. "I'm trying to understand, but I don't. I know you care. I just don't understand why. I mean why this much? Why are you giving up sleep to be in this hospital when you know you won't see her, talk to her? Why be here at all?"

Edward looked down at his shoes not quite knowing how to answer. "It feels important for me to be here," he finally said, his voice quiet. "Being anywhere else just feels... wrong."

_**~0~**_

Bella existed in a surreal space, her every sense at a low hum, like a computer in sleep mode: powered but not functional. It wasn't a peaceful place. She was consistently subjected to stimuli that forced her out of the anoetic state.

After the FBI agents broke into the little house where she'd been kept prisoner, after the initial panic and confusion that had her jabbering incoherently, writhing to get away from the people who were trying to help her, Bella understood one thing: she didn't have to pretend anymore. With Mike, there was no escaping the torments he put her through, not if she wanted to survive. A lapse in concentration meant pain or death.

So when she knew they had him, when she saw him restrained and in the back of one of the vehicles that surrounded the secluded little house, she didn't feel safe, but she knew she could let go.

When he saw her, he was enraged. He snarled and jerked at the officers who held him back. He screamed at her.

And for once, Bella let go. It was too much. Too many people milling and shouting. Too much chaos. Too much pain.

In the ambulance, they kept asking her questions, trying to bring her back out from the place she'd retreated to, the place where all the noise around her was just a nonsensical buzz, where everything she saw was a mass of shapes and colors that were meaningless to her brain. She still felt pain, but that wasn't anything new. It was sharper sometimes, like when they probed the swollen mess that used to be her arm.

The rape kit was the worst. It was an extended period of time where they asked her to be present in her own head. A soft spoken attendant held her hand and asked her questions about her sexual history and explained what they would be doing, looking for, testing for. Bella absolutely refused to let words like 'pregnancy' and 'STI's' translate into meaning in her head. They were just sounds.

They asked her about the things Mike had done. Bella told them a story about another girl and stood by idly while that girl was subjected to tests, while they catalogued her injuries, took pictures of her abused body. They asked the girl to make decisions, and Bella did speak for her - poor pathetic creature.

Yes, she wanted the morning after pill.

Please call Rosalie.

Yes, she understood they needed to take her into surgery to fix her arm, to re-break it and set it right.

The doctor asked if she could speak to Rosalie about Bella's injuries.

She was so unbearably tired. Her grip on sanity felt tenuous at best, and there was nothing in the world, _nothing_, she wanted more than to not feel anything. She ached for the promise of the anesthesia, the respite from everything - even the low hum of consciousness - for any amount of time. Just a few minutes not to feel. Just a few minutes to be truly, entirely blank.

And maybe this would all fade away. She would wake up in her own bed, and this would be just a nightmare. Nightmares were ephemeral. Nightmares could be brushed aside. She could be safe again after a nightmare.

Finally, Bella whispered a yes at the doctor's question. It was fine to talk to Rosalie. As much as she hated the idea her friend would know what happened to her, she knew better than to think she could get away with silence, and she didn't want to have to explain these things. She didn't want to have to think anymore. Let someone else carry this weight that was threatening to crush her to death - slabs of stone being piled on her chest while everything inside her was slowly pulverized.

Then, the world faded away.

_**~0~**_

Edward caught exactly one glimpse of Bella, and that was an accident.

By then dawn was breaking. The doctors had come to retrieve Rosalie when Bella was out of surgery. She was in recovery, they said, and they could wait in the room for her to be brought down.

"In this circumstance, it's probably best for it to be only you," the doctor told Rosalie, speaking gently, her eyes sympathetic.

Emmett tried not to let on how upset he was. He nodded to Rosalie that everything was fine and she should go wait for Bella. Then he took off, saying he was going to check out the cafeteria. Hesitating a moment, Edward followed him. He wasn't in the cafeteria, so Edward bought coffee for Rosalie and took it up to the suite where Bella would be.

By then, though, Bella was in her room. Edward stopped short just before entering, his breath caught in his throat.

From the stories her friends had told, the mental image Edward had of Bella Swan was at least ten feet tall. The woman they spoke of had a quiet strength and a ferocity of spirit.

The woman in the bed was just a little girl. Rather, she looked about as small. She was a tiny thing - skinny and fragile. Her hair was a lackluster shade, a brown that was dead and limp. She stared straight up, the subtle rise and fall of her chest the only indication she was even alive.

He saw bandages, bruises... a scrape on her chin, but didn't really process the extent of her injuries, didn't really have time to really look before he turned away, knowing she needed privacy.

He walked away quickly, feeling like he'd been punched in the gut, like there was a long spike through his stomach that was being twisted slowly.

Trashing the coffee, he walked faster, seeking out the door.

Almost the instant he got outside, Edward spotted a hulking figure a ways off, pacing in the parking lot.

He'd found Emmett.

Even in the chilliness of the early morning, the rage coming off Emmett in waves was red hot.

"I'm going to kill the bastard. I'm going to fucking kill him!" Emmett exploded when Edward got close enough.

There was no question who he was talking about.

"That fucking sick prick hurts her, and it'll be me she's scared of. Me." He slapped the side of some poor bastard's card. "How is that right?"

"It's not right. None of it's right."

"Damn straight. I'll bring her his head on a platter for what he did," Emmett seethed.

Edward watched him pace. It was heartbreaking, this whole situation was riddling his heart with holes. But this right here, Emmett's unfathomable rage, was something he knew how to handle. Finally in this mess, it was something he could do.

"It's possible she won't be scared of you," he said quietly.

At his words, Emmett came to a stop. Rage drained from his features, and his body fell along with it. He leaned over, his hands on his legs as he breathed raggedly. "What if she is?" The question was hitched, his tone broken. "I love her like she's my own little sister. What if she won't let me help her?"

Edward put his hand on Emmett's arm and led him out of the parking lot to a bench. Emmett came obediently and sat, his shoulders still slumped, his fingers tangled in his hair in his distress.

"The best thing you can do for Bella is remember not to assume," Edward began, a script he'd known by rote for going on a decade. "There is no one way every person reacts to something like this. You can't assume what she needs or how she should be feeling."

Emmett's head snapped up and he glowered, but there was no real heat behind his gaze. His eyes looked tired. Tired and so full of sorrow. "So what? You're going to tell me you've got some psychology degree now?"

"No. But I still volunteer at a rape crisis hotline," he said quietly.

Emmett's eyes registered shock before he looked away. He laughed without any humor. "One in four women, isn't that what the statistic is?" he muttered bitterly. "I was always afraid. They said it had happened or would probably happen to someone you know. I was always afraid it would be Rosie." He growled, tugging at his hair. "I can't take it. I can't fucking take it."

Edward knew all too well what he meant - how all the ugliness in the world seemed to hit all at once, making it impossible to even remember beauty. It was sick what people could do to one another, and yes, the knowledge was always there, always lingering in a dark recess of everyone's mind, but times like these it was impossible to dismiss, impossible to choose to see the positive, impossible to do anything but stare - eyes forced open, head forced forward.

And yet, entirely impossible to cope with.

Because even had Mike Newton been standing right in front of them, even if they could rip him apart piece by piece, this anger, the thirst for vengeance could not and would not be slaked with the monster's blood. There was no such thing as justice for something like this. It would never be fair that Bella was standing now at the beginning of a journey no person should ever have to undertake.

Of course, it was Bella who carried the lion's share of this burden, whose very soul was probably badly mangled. But as her friends, Rosalie and Emmett's lives were forever changed by this.

Edward's life was forever changed, though that was a whole other story he couldn't concentrate on because he wasn't sure how to define what he was feeling yet.

"You know those blood pressure cuffs they have at the markets sometimes?" Edward asked quietly after a few minutes.

Emmett straightened, and though Edward didn't turn he could guess the man was probably looking at him like he'd grown a third head.

Edward looked down at his feet. "Doesn't matter how old I get, I always have to try it if I pass one."

"Dude?" Emmett sounded a little incredulous.

"You know how for a few seconds, when it squeezes around your arm, you think you can't take it? It's just on the side of painful that it's almost intolerable - not because there isn't worse pain, but because you should be able to yank your arm away, to stop it?"

"Okay," Emmett said slowly.

"That's what it's like. That's the only way I can think to describe it. It's like sticking your heart in one of those machines. You know it can't possibly be as painful as what she's going through, but it squeezes you so tight, it's maddening, and it keeps going, keeps squeezing, until you can't breathe and you can't think about anything except how much you should be able to just step out of it.

"But eventually, it stops squeezing, stops getting tighter and just holds you. And that part is almost tolerable, like if you just breathe you know it will let up. If you just hold still a few more seconds. It will. Tick by tick, inch by inch, it will get better. It will release you. It just doesn't feel like it right now."

Emmett grunted, hanging his head, running his hands restlessly through his hair. "Yeah, well..."

Edward hadn't been looking for an answer, so he didn't push.

"I wish this was all going to be better in a few seconds," the larger man muttered.

"I know."

Another minute of silence passed. "You've been through this," Emmett finally said. It wasn't a question. "I mean for real. Not just as part of some training."

Edward's jaw tightened but he nodded without looking at the other man. "It was my mother. I was ten. There was a home invasion, and she was home alone."

That as the short version. The very short version.

"Jesus," Emmett muttered. "I'm sorry."

Edward just shook his head. "Thank you. Emmett, listen. This goes for you and Rosalie and anyone else, but I'm here for you, too. You're going to have to be strong for Bella, and it won't be easy. It will be hell on Earth. It'll make you want to scream, and cry, and tear something apart, but you won't be able to because you can't make this about you.

"So I'm here. If you need someone to vent to, I'll be here to listen. If you need someone to yell at, I can take it. I've got quite the gym at my house, so you can put on some gloves and beat the shit out of a punching bag anytime you want."

Emmett stared at him for a prolonged minute, then he laughed again, the sound somewhat maniacal. "This has to be the most fucked up way to start a friendship in the history of the world."

"It's a nice thought, though, isn't it?" Edward asked, catching on quickly. "One day, we're all going to get to do the friend thing."

"I bet you got a hell of a big screen."

"The biggest," Edward confirmed.

"You probably got a cook who makes the best wings."

Edward snorted. "Are you kidding me? Gustavo couldn't make wings if his life depended on it. We'd have to get them from Buffalo Wild Wings like everyone else."

Emmett snickered, but the amusement was just a flash in the pan. His face fell as quick as his lips had quirked up. "Do you really have a cook?"

"No."

They were both silent. It was a nice dream. It was nice thinking that there could be a day when things were normal again, where smiling wouldn't be so difficult.

And Emmett wasn't wrong - they were friends. It had snuck up on him over these last horrible days, but he genuinely liked the larger man and Rosalie, too.

In his daydream, Bella was there too, whole and untethered by the weight of the horrors she'd been subjected to. It was amazing how absolutely vivid the image in his head was. He could see her soft smile, the indulgent patience in her eyes, as she looked at him from over a beer.

But whether or not that daydream would ever come to pass, whether or not they would ever be friends, Edward was going to do whatever it took to help her heal. Right now, if all that meant was being there for her friends - his friends - that's what he was going to do.

"Thanks, man. Really," Emmett said, his tone sincere. He took a deep breath. "Well, guess it's time to see what's up." He was quiet for a moment, his expression guilty. "You know what my first thought was when the doctor said she might not want to see me?"

"What's that?"

"Relief." Emmett bowed his head. "I just don't know if I can handle seeing her broken without going out of my mind."

Edward shuddered, his hands flexing into fists as he remembered the one glimpse he'd gotten of Bella and how tiny she'd looked in that hospital bed.

The way she stared up blankly.

It was killing him, and he didn't even know her.

"Take it one step at a time. See if she'll see you," he suggested. "I'll come with you."

Emmett looked uncomfortable. "I don't think you can-"

"I know. I meant I'd stay in the waiting room."

He'd meant every word he said. He was in it for the long haul.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks to GinnyW and Barburella for holding my hand.**

**And thanks to all of you for sticking around. This isn't an easy fic to write, and I know it can't be easy to read.**


	6. Three Weeks

_**A/N: If I haven't answered your question, it's because it will eventually be answered. If it's a matter of personal comfort in reading, let me know and I will answer it. I'm aware there are huge gaps in information. Everything will come out in time. Promise.**_

* * *

It had been three weeks.

With Mike behind bars and newspapers clamoring about the story, more information became known every day.

Serial killer.

There'd been a serial killer on Edward's website.

"It's just not a feasible business decision."

Ben's voice was gentle, as if he were breaking bad news to a little boy. Ben was always patient about Edward's ideas, but now there was a tinge of anxiety to his tone.

Edward couldn't very well blame him. These last five weeks, his friend had pretty much been running the company on his own.

"You'd also be looking at a mess, legally." Jasper Whitlock was head of Edward's legal team, one of the few people he counted among his friends, and as of recently, his brother-in-law. "You can't expect people to sign up for a service that requires them to submit to a background check."

"You think people won't appreciate knowing the people on the other end of the screen could pass a simple background check? Wouldn't that be a comfort?" Edward countered.

"Our service has always been inexpensive," Ben returned. "We wouldn't be able to do that if we're paying for background checks on everyone, not to mention the drop in subscribers."

"We've already experienced a drop in subscribers since this all started."

"Yes, but that's momentary." Ben grimaced. "Like it or not, any press is good press. Yes, those first few weeks we took a hit, but the numbers are bouncing back now, especially in light of your efforts."

Edward frowned. Since learning of Bella's plight, Edward had enacted several changes on the site, making a whole new section of tips for safer dating. He'd also given a good amount of money to various causes raising awareness for troubled children. "I didn't do anything for the sake of publicity," he groused.

"Of course you didn't, but that's not the point."

"I know this is difficult." Jasper put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "But Edward, you know as well as I do, a background check wouldn't have caught that bastard."

Steepling his fingers, Edward leaned back in his chair, brooding.

It was true, what his friends were saying. As far as paper trails went, Mike Newton had appeared suddenly at the age of seven in Sacramento and disappeared just as suddenly at nineteen along with his mother. He hadn't reappeared on the grid until about five months ago when he signed up for an e-mail address and services with BTN and several other online dating companies.

The point was, even had BTN required a background check, Mike would have come up clean.

The man had gone under many aliases the last thirteen years.

Jessica Stanley - Mike's high school girlfriend - had been the key to everything. She'd stepped forward after seeing one of the ads Edward had played across the country, and it was her information that tied everything together.

As it turned out, Mike used the names of old high school classmates as he moved from city to city. Tyler Crowley, DJ Garrett, Austin Marks - they'd all briefly appeared in one town or another only to disappear some time later. With Jessica to connect the dots between the names, and Bella's information about what Mike had done to her, the FBI suspected he'd killed at least four women in the last twelve years. His mother - missing the last thirteen years - was also suspected dead.

"It's just a truth we live with," Ben agreed. "Have you seen the news about this lately? People who were his neighbors, his co-workers... even those young men whose names he borrowed were shocked. He was always friendly. He smiled and said good morning. He was a good neighbor. If they didn't know he was a psychopath, how could our programs know?"

In his head, Edward was going over the algorithms. After all, the program had a psychological element.

He wondered if he could assign a number to various sociopathic behaviors and mindsets.

Ben and Jasper both sighed, seeing the look in his eyes.

"Either way. As tempting as it is to offer an entirely safe meet-up service, it's an impossibility. Life isn't safe. You know this," Ben tried again. "And frankly, the hit we would take to our membership would be profound. You have a lot of jobs depending on us, Edward."

"Fine," Edward said, waving his hand. He was frustrated, but they were right. There was no way to rid the world of darkness. It was what it was. "Anything else?"

Jasper handed him a folder. "Latest in a string of frivolous lawsuits blaming us for everything from a reimbursement request for a ripped dress to emotional trauma. None of it will stick, but those are the reports anyway."

Edward nodded. "I'm not worried about any of that." The only potential lawsuit he cared about was whether or not Bella would decide to take action against him. If she did, he would give her anything she asked for. Period. Ben, Jasper, nor anyone else would be able to dissuade him.

He stood. "Well, if there's nothing else, I'm off to meet Rosalie for lunch."

"Again?" Ben gave him a sad smile. "You know, the circumstances suck, but it's good you're branching out when it comes to friends."

"Alice says they're good people. Them and the other one. What's her name?" Jasper snapped his fingers.

"Angela," Ben supplied. "She sounds real nice." He rolled his eyes. "Alice keeps dropping hints that she's single."

Edward had to smile. His little sister was an excellent judge of character and forever obsessed with matching people who should be friends up.

They were alike that way, he supposed.

After Bella got out of the hospital, she was in no condition to care for herself. According to Rosalie, she would follow basic instructions. If one of the nurses, Rose, or Angela took her by the hands, she would follow where they led like a sleepy child. Left on her own she was unnaturally still, sitting with her legs drawn up as tight as possible, her eyes blank.

Edward would remember that dead eyed stare as long as he lived. When his mother looked like that, she looked like an entirely different person.

She was existing in a haze and her broken arm made it difficult for her to dress or do much else for herself even if she wanted to. The first couple of weeks, her friends, mainly Rosalie and Angela, had stayed with her. But they had lives to get back to, jobs. So Edward had offered to hire a home care provider.

He'd hoped he wasn't overstepping his boundaries, had explained to Bella's friends his reasoning. His sister was young, only recently certified as a home care provider, but she was caring and capable. And she had a unique background that gave her an empathy toward Bella other caretakers might not have. She'd grown up in an atmosphere where she knew in a general sense what to expect, how to talk to and care for a rape survivor.

It was a qualification not easily interviewed for, and they'd agreed with his logic.

"You know Alice," Edward said with a smile. "She means well."

_**~0~**_

"It's just some horrible type of irony." Rosalie's tone was bitter. "Bella was never very social. It was worse when her parents died. Her work let her start working mostly from home. Then she moved to Forks so she could renovate that house and sell it." She chuffed. "I called her a recluse, and now..."

Reaching across the table, Edward brushed her hand lightly. "I know it feels like it's been years, but it's only been three weeks."

Rosalie leaned her elbows on the table, rubbing her eyes. "I'm exhausted." Raising her head a bit, she smiled a little. "Thank you for this. I can't vent to Emmett. He struggles so much watching this happen to Bella. It hurts him a lot that she gets so jumpy around him. I can't have him worry about me too."

Edward smiled gently. Emmett said the exact same thing when he vented at Edward. "How is Bella coming along with him?"

"We figured it's mostly his speed and strength that freaks her out. You know Emmett is always so enthusiastic. It catches her off guard."

"Understandable."

"So when we see her, he sits in a chair at the center of the room. He just talks and talks, so she gets used to his voice again."

"That's not a bad idea," Edward said with a hint of admiration.

"Well." She worried her napkin between her fingers looking vaguely ill. She scoffed. "Girl can hardly string three words together, but she's kicked us out of her apartment. She wants to try being on her own at least at night."

Edward screwed up his lips, thinking of the right thing to say. The thought made his gut twist, so he could only imagine what Rosalie - who'd had to see Bella suffer every day - was feeling.

"I know," Rosalie grumbled before he could speak. "She's trying to take back some control. It's just... those nightmares she gets..."

"There's not much you can do. You can't force her to keep you around. Just let her know you're just a phone call away."

"Do you think you know everything?" Rosalie snapped. She closed her eyes and breathed in deep through her nose. "I'm sorry. I know you're just trying to help."

"So are you," Edward said mildly.

"I just hate to think of her going through one of those episodes alone." Her voice wavered. "This is going to end badly."

"Maybe. Probably, but it will be her choice."

_**~0~**_

It had been three weeks since she'd left the hospital.

Bella blinked, a little startled when Alice leaned into her field of vision. The younger woman patted her knee sympathetically. "Did you hear me?"

"Umm." She tugged restlessly at the long sleeve of the oversize sweatshirt she wore. She tried to think of the last ten seconds of her life and found they were a blur, a buzz. "No. I'm sorry."

"I asked if you needed anything else before I leave."

Bella flexed her fingers into fists to still the tremor of fear that rocked her body. Her eyes darted around, trying to find familiarity in this still unfamiliar apartment.

The _Game of Thrones _map on the wall was hers.

The collection of Collector's Edition DVD's and Blu-Rays on the new black shelves were all recognizable.

She picked out knick-knacks and reminded herself of where she'd gotten that lamp or those books.

_Her _apartment.

_Her _home.

Bella breathed through her nose, willing the panic that closed off her throat to subside so she could speak. "I'm fine. Thank you."

Alice put her Kindle, the television controller, and her cell phone within arm's reach of Bella before she left. Even though she heard Alice's key turn in both locks, she was still out of her seat within thirty seconds of the other woman's departure, triple checking.

She sunk back down on the sofa, pulling her legs up on the cushions.

The silence was deafening.

No. The silence was threatening to terrify her. It was full of noises that made her jump. Even the far off sound of traffic made the world feel too full, because once upon a time Mike had to have walked down a crowded sidewalk. How many people had walked right by him and not felt so much as a shiver?

Scrambling, she picked up the control to the TV and turned it on, putting the volume up and flipping the channel past the news, past the crime dramas, until she found a harmless sitcom. Her skin was still crawling so she opened her laptop, pulling up Pandora and letting the music play.

She clapped her uninjured left hand over her ear and closed her eyes tightly, trying to take measured breaths through her nose. Thoughts, fears, surfaced in her mind, but she refused to let them solidify. She couldn't. Not if she wanted to stay calm.

It was like diving in a pool. The noise around her became indistinct - a garbled hum. Her vision became fractured, bending light into indistinct blurs. She drifted.

She must have fallen asleep because when the world came back into focus, she was back in that house again. There was a sharp, intense pain at the back of her head and blackness yawning in front of her.

_Mike held her at the top of the stairs leading down to her basement prison. One hand was tangled in her hair, yanking her head back viciously, the other held her arm in a punishing grip._

_"Don't you understand?" his words were a snarl at her ear, and when he shook her, she shrieked in pain and terror. "I told you. How many times did I tell you?! You always have to pay for your transgressions. Always!"_

_He flung her away from him with brutal force and she pitched forward, screaming as the stairs came up to meet her at a dizzying speed._

It was impossible for Bella to tell how long it took her to realize she never hit the ground, at least, not this time. Her throat was so closed off, it was hard to breathe and, perhaps thankfully, hard to scream.

Blindly, Bella swept her hand out, searching for the bottle of pills she knew was there. Alice had left it with the lid off so she didn't have to struggle one-handed and Rosalie had made her promise to take them if she needed them. That was the caveat - the only way Rosalie would leave her alone tonight.

This was what she wanted, she tried to remind herself, tried to see through her mindless anxiety.

She was shaking so hard, it was a miracle she got the pills in her mouth at all. She spilled most of the water on herself before she could get the glass to her lips, but when she did, she drank the whole thing.

Her eyes roamed wildly while she waited for the pill to take effect. Her poster. Her books. Her things.

Her home.

This was the mantra the counselor at the hospital had suggested. Find familiarity. Find anchors to what was real.

Don't think you can't ask for help. Don't be ashamed.

Bella picked up her phone before she could think about what she was doing. She had to concentrate to hold her arm still enough that she even had a chance of pushing the right key to call Rose or Angela or...

No. No, she didn't want to call them. That was the point of this. She was sick of being a burden. She was sick of being babysat.

She wanted her fucking life back.

_Just get through tonight. Tonight is the hardest. It's all downhill from here._

She didn't really believe what she was telling herself, but either way, there had to be a first night. There was no escaping this.

What was she going to do, live in her little non-world all her life, fading in and out of conversation? Did she expect her friends to abandon jobs, spouses, kids so she wouldn't ever have to be alone at night again?

Even with the meds, she was reeling, freaked out and on edge. In need of a distraction, when Bella was reasonably sure she wasn't trembling so hard she would fall, she got to her feet again, wandering the little apartment.

It was a nice place. Bella wasn't sure if it was the first time she'd noticed or the first time it actually sunk in.

Except for forcing herself to be cognizant and coherent to cooperate with the FBI - above all things, she wanted justice for the girls who hadn't survived Mike's torments - Bella didn't remember much about the time she'd spent in the hospital. Actually, she didn't remember much about the last three weeks. Bits and pieces stuck out, like lightning illuminated the landscape on an otherwise pitch black night. She was all too aware when the terror overtook her. She recalled bits and pieces of conversations.

She did remember Rosalie's abnormally gentle voice asking her about her living situation. Even if she'd wanted to return to her parents' house in Forks - she didn't, the thought of the house alone had sent her into a panic - there was no way she could be that far away from her friends and doctors.

But at that point, Bella was hardly up to handling the mundane things like walking on her own or remembering how to brush her teeth. So her friends had set about the task of finding her an apartment.

An apartment with great security, well lit hallways, and attached parking.

Bella furrowed her brow.

How was all of this getting paid for? She couldn't remember for the life of her. She vaguely remembered giving Rosalie access to her accounts, but what was she paying in rent here? Could she afford this while she was on leave?

Stumbling forward, still trying to outrun the panic that nipped at her heels, Bella made her way to where she thought she'd seen a stack of official looking paperwork on the kitchen counter.

Concentration was a habit she was struggling to relearn. It happened more often than not that she got up, intent on completing some task, only to forget what it was and find herself standing frozen, staring dumbly at the wall with no real memory how she'd even gotten there. In conversations, she was lucky when she could focus long enough to form a complex sentence. When they talked to her, their voices often faded away into meaningless noise after mere moments.

So when she found her rental agreement with her name next to a stranger's, an Edward Cullen, Bella was sure she'd missed something.

She blinked sporadically, her thoughts flying.

Who the fuck was Edward Cullen?

The name sounded familiar, which was the only fact that allowed her to grab hold of her quickly rising fear. It couldn't be another situation, another stranger who thought their lives should be entwined. Bella's breath spiked and she stumbled backward, looking around frantically, suddenly certain she wasn't alone.

No, no. She was sure she'd heard this name before.

Find anchors to what was real. She did trust Rosalie, Emmett, and Angela. They knew this man. They obviously knew about the apartment. They wouldn't have let this happen if something nefarious was going on with this Edward Cullen.

Of course, what if he had them fooled, like Mike...

Bella shook her head vehemently, staving off thoughts of _him_.

No. She couldn't think that way and stay sane. She needed more information. She knew she'd heard the name. Pressing her lips together, she tried to pull the thin threads of information from the last three weeks together, trying to recall conversations she'd only barely been paying attention to.

Actually, she'd heard his name a lot.

Rosalie and Emmett spoke of him. 'Lunch with Edward.' 'I was over at Edward's the other night.' 'Edward said this or that.'

She'd asked at some point who he was, and maybe she'd heard the answer, but she didn't really listen to it until right then.

Edward Cullen. The CEO of By the Numbers, the dating site that had led _him _to her.

Bella sucked in a sharp breath and then another, her lungs pricked painfully as her chest seemed to get smaller. Was it all a plot? What if he'd been Mike's accomplice? Her thoughts were wild, possibilities hitting her like punches to her gut.

Wait. Hadn't the CEO of BTN taken care of her hospital bills? She seemed to remember someone talking about that.

He'd gotten her this apartment, too. Was paying for it, or at least had paid the deposit, it looked like.

Of course. A preemptive strike against litigation. It made sense. Logical. He would be concerned for his company.

Just another person walking on eggshells around her. _Don't upset Bella._

Well, fuck that.

Not really thinking clearly at all, Bella darted toward the living room and her phone, taking the rental agreement with her. Her fingers were still shaking, making it difficult to dial.

_This is insane._

The thought did flit through her head. Of course it did. Normal people didn't call complete strangers in the middle of the night. The problem was there were other voices crowding her mind, threatening to send her psyche spiraling back into the hell the FBI had dragged her out of. There was an encroaching sense of panic and the stark cold finger of fear that made her feel like her whole body was encased in ice even though she was wearing three layers of clothing.

In all that chaos, her admonition got lost. She hit send and brought the phone to her ear.

* * *

**A/N: An abundance of thanks to jfka06, barburella, Cris, and GinnyW. **

**Expect an update in no more than a couple of days. I'm on it.**

**But how are we feeling now?**


	7. Awkward Introductions

**A/N: Y'all can thank jfka06 for begging me to update this sooner rather than later. Sigh. This is a short chapter, though.**

* * *

A phone ringing at 2:42 in the morning was never a good thing.

Edward stared at his cell phone, his stomach clenching at the sight of his lit up screen. It was a blocked number. Quickly, he snatched the thing up, his heart pounding so hard he was sure it was audible to the person on the other end.

"Hello?"

He thought he heard a whimper, but he couldn't be sure.

"Hello? Who is this?" His mind spun with possibilities. Was someone playing a joke on him? It was a horrible joke if they were. The person on the other end was making frightened sounding noises.

But then again, those noises made his training kick in. It was heartbreaking how many times he'd received calls just like this while working on the hotline, some poor young woman or, on occasion, a young man in the worst pain and confusion of their lives. "It's okay," he soothed automatically. "I can help you. Just tell me your name. Can you tell me your name?" Simple questions worked best, easy questions. If that didn't work, he would have to resort to yes or no questions.

The person on the other end exhaled in a gust. He heard swallowing before a shaking voice asked, "Are you Edward Cullen?"

"Yes. Who is this?" he tried again, his voice gentle.

"I, um. Look. My name is Bella Swan."

Edward bit his lip hard to keep from gasping. Though it should have been obvious given the time if night and the apparent distress she was in, Bella was the absolute last person he would have suspected was on his phone line.

"I think you're paying for my apartment? Or maybe just the deposit. Look, I just really need to know why you, why you..."

He could hear the edge of panic in her voice as she babbled and his heart broke. He thought quickly, trying to understand why she'd choose him to call when she was very close to freaking out. Her tone was vaguely accusatory. She wasn't reaching out to him for comfort, he realized. She was lashing out.

He'd thought Rosalie explained the deal with the apartment to her, but that was a moot point. Rosalie had also made it clear Bella was in a daze most of the time.

"Bella. I mean, Miss Swan. I don't know how much you know about me, but By the Numbers is my company."

"I know who you are," she snapped. "Do you have a key to this apartment?"

"What? No. No, of course not. I never did." It took some effort to keep his voice steady. "Your friends were there when I signed that paperwork. I gave the key straight to them."

"But the landlord would give you a key if you asked for one. Because you pay the bills," she persisted.

"Well, I suppose that's true," he said calmly. "Look, why don't we party call her. You can call. The number should be on the paperwork."

Another loud exhale. "It's the middle of the night."

"Well, this is important. You can tell her you don't want me to have the key. I won't argue."

There was silence on the other end of the line save for her staccato breaths. Edward was desperate to say something, desperate to apologize among other things, but he knew better. He had to follow her lead.

When it came to someone you personally cared about, it was the hardest thing in the world to do.

"S-s-she's asleep. I don't want to bother her," Bella finally said, her voice small. She sounded confused.

"Okay," Edward agreed.

"You're not asleep."

"Um. No, no I'm not."

"Why?" The word came out rough like a bark.

Edward took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, away from the phone so she couldn't hear. It was a weighty question. He didn't want to lie, but at the same time, he couldn't admit thoughts of her was what kept him up at night. "I'm a computer nerd," he decided finally. "We're just prone to being night owls."

"Yeah," she said on a breath, sounding distracted now, far away. "Coding always goes faster at night."

"Exactly," Edward answered, his tone thankfully not betraying his surprise.

He heard sniffling. Never in his life did he wish he could take someone into his arms more than he did right that very moment. The distance between them was physically painful. It was ridiculous because she was a perfect stranger and even if she was right in front of him, if he tried to hug her he would make things a million times worse for her.

"It's late." Her voice was shaking. "I shouldn't have called. I'm sorry."

"No, Bell - Miss Swan, I-" but it was too late. He heard the click of the phone disconnecting. "Fuck."

He was up out of his seat before he realized what he was doing, his body tensed to spring into action, but how? What?

He was so terrified for the woman who was relatively few miles away from him and yet so ridiculously far it was unreal. She was alone and terribly frightened. He wanted, he _needed _to see her, see with his own eyes she was safe. He wanted to comfort her so badly and slay what demons tormented her.

Even though he knew what it would say, he scrolled through his received calls. Private number. Of course.

But Rose or Emmett would give him the number. Better yet, they would go to her.

He paused with his finger already hovering over the send button, Rosalie's number on the screen.

Cursing again under his breath, he forced himself to put the phone down.

There was no way he could violate her choice like that. Obviously she was scared half out of her mind, but she knew she could reach out to her friends if she needed. He wasn't going to take that choice away from her - couldn't take that choice away from her if he had any hope of helping her.

He had no choice but to wait.

There was no way he would be able to sleep again, not while he was picturing her panicking alone. He settled in front of his computer, clicking randomly.

When the phone rang again at 3:21, Edward jumped.

Private number.

"Hello?" he asked, breathless.

"I, um. I... I..." Bella's voice quaked and again, Edward's heart twisted painfully in his chest. She was crying, he could tell, but she was trying to calm down. "Listen, I'm sorry. I'm sorry to call you. But you're up and... and..."

"It's fine," Edward said quickly. "Of course it's fine. I wasn't trying to sleep."

"I don't want to bother you."

"You're no bother." He paused, worrying his lip between his teeth, not wanting to push her. "Is there anything you want to talk about?"

"I don't..."

She tapered off. When she hadn't completed her sentence, Edward took a chance, remembering what Rosalie had said about Emmett. "Do you just want me to talk?"

Another pause, but then she whispered, "Please."

Edward thought quickly, casting his eyes around, searching for a safe topic. Topics that weren't how sorry he was this was happening to her, how glad he was she'd survived, how much he wanted to tear Mike Newton to pieces.

He babbled some whiny nonsense about _Game of Thrones _not restarting until April. He talked about a cruise his mother and father had taken to Alaska recently. He talked about asinine things - anything and everything, talking just to hear himself speak.

Because through the whole thing, she didn't say a word. He knew she was still there. He could hear the gasps of her panicked breaths for quite a while as he spoke. Then, bit by little bit, they slowed and finally returned to normal. It was even longer after that she kept sniffling as if she were crying quietly, but not so disconsolately.

Finally, there was no other sound but her breath - slow, steady, and even.

"Bella?" he asked quietly.

There was no answer, no shift of movement.

She was asleep.

Edward felt a sense of relief and hoped fervently that she could find some peace. He glanced at the clock. It was after five in the morning.

In that time, he'd migrated to his couch and was laying down, staring blindly up at the ceiling, wondering what he should do. He supposed he could hang up, but that felt wrong somehow - like he was abandoning her. What if she woke up to nightmares again?

So he kept the phone - plugged in now to keep it from running out of batteries - tucked up against his ear, listening to the steady rhythm of her breaths until he fell asleep.

_**~0~**_

Bella woke with a start, blinking and confused. Her eyes rolled, and she winced when she accidentally rammed her arm into the side of the sofa. There was something heavy weighing her down, weighing her down.

Where the fuck was she?

Home, she remembered. She couldn't move her arm because it was in a cast - and it had freaky Frankenstein's monster pins sticking out of it. She was home. Alone. And she was sleeping on the couch.

And there was a noise in her ear - an unfamiliar noise.

For a second, she froze, her body seized with fear as she remembered Mike's grunts and pants, his breath hot against her ear. She started to whimper but quickly pressed her hand against her mouth, muffling it.

No. It wasn't Mike. Mike couldn't call her. Mike couldn't hurt her.

She struggled to remember what had happened the night before.

And who was on the other end of the phone she had pressed against her ear? The phone was uncomfortably hot because it was plugged into the wall and she'd been laying on it all night.

She remembered doing that, remembered thinking she didn't want to lose the connection. His voice was soothing, and as he chatted in her ear, she didn't feel so lonely.

_His _voice was soothing.

Bella gasped, hitting the disconnect button.

Had she been a complete and total lunatic to a complete stranger?

There were only bits and pieces of the previous night that stuck out. When she'd picked up the phone and dialed, she was angry, intent on getting him to but out of her life. But when she heard his voice - a strange, male voice - fear had overcome fury. She remembered rambling. And hanging up. And how she was entirely too alone until she called him back and he had talked to her until the vicious grip of panic that had seized her heart, her chest loosened enough that she could breathe again.

Enough, apparently, that she'd fallen asleep.

For a solid five hours. She hadn't slept more than a couple hours at a time since...

It was 9:30 in the morning. Angela would be here any-

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door followed by a key turning in the lock. "Bella?" Angela called.

"Here, Ange," Bella called. Her voice was raspy with sleep.

She froze, shocked.

She'd gotten through her first night alone, relatively intact. It had been hell, but it was behind her. Accomplished. Done.

She'd gotten through it with no small amount of help from a man who she'd never seen or heard before in her life.

* * *

**A/N: All my girls held my hand through this one. Thank you to GinnyW, Shug, barburella, and jfka06.**

**And thank you to all of you for your response to this story. The stories that are the hardest to write (and read) are almost always the most rewarding to get feedback from. This fic has been nominated for fic of the week at the lemonade stand (That's tehlemonadestand dot net) in case you're interested in voting. Either way, there are some great fics up there.**


	8. The Mysterious Edward Cullen

**A/N: My darlings, your response to the last chapter gives me the big puffy hearted feels. I'm so glad you're coming along on this journey with me.**

* * *

Rosalie was talking. Bella had only tried for a minute to keep up before she let her mind wander. For once her mind didn't wander far; her thoughts remained concrete, not fading into the blurry haze.

She really needed to figure out the mystery of this Edward person. She was suspicious but wondered if she was being too paranoid. But how was too paranoid possible? Edward knew too much about her and she too little about him.

After all, she'd only learned later that while she was sitting across from Mike seeing him for the first time, he'd already been watching her for days.

It wasn't difficult to find Bella Swan in Forks. Not when her father had been the beloved police chief.

Bella shook her head, rubbing her neck anxiously.

"Bella?" Rosalie asked.

"I'm fine," she said quickly. "What were you saying?"

For a moment, Bella was sure her friend was going to press the issue. All her friends hated the words "I'm fine" as must as she hated the words, "Are you okay?" Of course she wasn't fine and she wasn't okay. Them asking her a million times a day wasn't going to change that and her answering truthfully didn't mean they could do anything about it.

There wasn't a damn thing they could say to make this better. She could scream it to every person on the planet, but it wouldn't take away her fear, it wouldn't cleanse the foulness she wore on her skin like a brand, and it wouldn't change that she saw his face everytime she closed her eyes, heard his voice in her ear, and felt his hands on her body.

Bella clenched her hands into fists, digging her nails into the skin of her palm.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rosalie look down at her lap. Her friend's voice shook a little with emotion as she continued her story, but she made no further comment.

Bella closed her eyes and breathed through her nose, trying to stay calm, centered.

Her mind scrambled back to Edward, seeking a distraction from her previous thoughts. She felt skittish. Ready to bolt. She hated always feeling like she had to be on alert, ready to run. There wasn't a lot Bella wouldn't give for the chance to relax, let her guard down for just a handful of seconds. Her body ached constantly from the tension.

"I need to know why Edward Cullen is paying for this apartment," Bella blurted suddenly, interrupting Rosalie. "I saw his name on the paperwork. Why would he do that? Who gets an apartment for someone they don't know?"

"Okay, Bella. Tell me what you need right now," Rosalie said, her hands raised in a placating motion.

Rosalie's choice of words was purposeful, reacting not to her words but to Bella's mindset. She realized she sounded erratic, like she did when she was on the verge of a panic attack. Maybe that wasn't far from the truth. Her pulse felt thready. Rosalie, Emmett... even Alice were prone to asking her what she needed. It wasn't a bad idea, really, when their instinct to hug her or otherwise touch her only sent her spiraling deeper.

It didn't mean the necessity of the question didn't annoy her.

"I just need to know what he wants."

"Well," Rosalie hedged. "Honestly, honey, he wants the same thing we all want."

"What does that mean?"

"Edward is a unique kind of guy. He's kind of intense and a little pushy when it comes to certain things."

Bella bristled, automatically defensive. She knew too much about men who exerted their will despite anyone else's wishes.

"Oh, no. Bella. I didn't mean in a bad way. He just doesn't back down very easily when he cares about something or someone."

"I don't understand. Are you trying to say he cares about me? He doesn't know me from Eve." This conversation wasn't helpful at all. Her breath was beginning to come in wheezes as thoughts of Edward were replaced with Mike's voice in her ear.

"_I'm gonna take care of you, pretty Bella. Just you and me. I love you so much._"

"That's not what I meant," Rosalie protested. "Ugh, this is coming out all wrong. Honey, please calm down. I didn't mean to make you upset. Please."

Rosalie's voice was frantic, and some tiny party of Bella's mind hated it. Her friend was so unflappable, so unerringly tough, and yet she sounded close to tears now.

But in another second, even that thought slipped away. The room began to spin crazily, and Bella's body jerked as visual, auditory, and tactile images assaulted her, each hitting her like a solid fist to her gut. Her skin had broken out in a cold sweat. Her lungs felt so tight, she clutched at her chest, scratching as if she could claw away the invisible fist trying to crush her air right out of her body. She was gasping and crying at the same time.

She felt the cool lip of a glass of water held to her lip and cringed backward, remembering being tied to the shelving unit as Mike coaxed her to drink. This time, though, at least one arm was free and she lashed out, knocking the glass away. The crash as it shattered on the wood floor made her scream - the sound cutting off quickly as her throat closed.

For long minutes that felt like eons, the only thing Bella knew was terror. She couldn't breathe. Her body was wracked with phantom pain. Her mind was paralyzed with fear.

Gradually, so slowly, she became aware of a familiar voice. A tearful voice, but one she didn't associate with pain. It was just a hum at first - so distant. Bella tried to concentrate, desperate to escape the pain, the torment in her chaotic mind.

"Please just breathe, Bella. Honey, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. Please come back."

Rosalie.

As Bella's thoughts became more concrete, a crushing exhaustion overtook her. She was vaguely aware she'd fallen at some point from the chair to the floor and was curled up in a ball near the table. Her friend was laying on the floor beside her, facing her but there was an arms-reach of distance between them.

Bella only saw Rose's tortured, tear-streaked face for a second before her vision blurred, and she began to weep quietly. Her chest ached with the residual effects of the panic attack, her right arm was throbbing - a hurt that went straight down to her broken bone.

After a minute, Bella tried to move, but found her body was absolutely plagued with lethargy. She felt as weak as a newborn kitten. The couch in the living room may as well have been fifty miles away across a desert at high noon.

"Do you want to lay down?" Rosalie asked between sniffles.

Bella managed to nod. She had no voice. Her mouth and throat were absolutely dry.

"Can I help you?" Rosalie asked in a shaking whisper.

Another nod. Bella felt cognizant enough that she didn't think her friend's touch would send her back out of her mind.

At first, Rosalie tried to help her up, but when Bella couldn't get her limbs to cooperate, the statuesque blond lifted her right up as though she were a small child instead of a full grown woman. Bella didn't have enough energy left to feel ashamed. She let her body sag first against Rosalie and then against the couch cushions.

"Can you take your anxiety pills now?" Rosalie asked gently.

Bella shook her head. No point in those now. She was too entirely tired to be anxious. She wasn't going to be able to keep her eyes open for long. "Arm," she managed to rasp.

The anti-anxiety meds were a moot point, but the pain pills might actually help. Rosalie was quick to riffle through the meds on the coffee table, finding the bottle she needed. "Can I help you?" she asked again anxiously.

Bella shuddered but nodded. As weak as she felt in that moment, there was no way she was going to be able to hold her own glass. It was a fight to keep herself present, conscious long enough to take the pill with Rosalie's help. The simple act of swallowing was difficult and tiring.

"I'm so sorry, Bella," Rosalie whispered.

It was the last thing Bella heard before a merciful sleep took her.

_**~0~**_

Edward rubbed his eyes tiredly, waking from a very light sleep. A glance at the clock indicated it was three in the morning.

Quickly, Edward scrambled for his phone, triple checking to make sure the battery was fully charged, and he had no missed calls. It was beyond the realm of conceivability that he could have slept through a phone call - his ringer was set to wake the dead - but he scrolled through his recent calls anyway. When he was assured he hadn't missed a call, he went through his texts and e-mails even though the idea Bella would contact him that way was completely absurd.

Then again, before last night he would have said Bella calling him or contacting him at all was absurd.

Blowing out a long, slow breath, Edward relaxed back against his pillows, his phone in hand.

Rosalie had called him that evening, upset because she'd sent Bella into a horrible panic. It seemed Bella was asking about him. But it also sounded like she hadn't told Rosalie that she talked to him.

Of course, it was completely within the realm of possibility that Bella merely hadn't gotten a chance to tell Rosalie about the late night phone calls before she had her attack. Rosalie said she slept for only forty five minutes before she woke again, and then the two spoke only very little on the subject.

"I told her the truth, of course," Rosalie had said. "Angela and I found this apartment, and it was perfect. It's equidistant between Angela's place and ours. The security is great, the neighborhood is great..."

"It's just a little out of her price range," Edward finished.

"You made it sound so logical, letting you help us, help her. I just wonder if it was the right thing to do."

"You had to make some hard decisions for her when she couldn't," Edward said, his tone soothing. "Now that she's coming back to herself a little, you can respect her decisions and help her get to where she needs to be.

"I understand, of course, why she's suspicious of my involvement in her life. You've been honest with her about everything from the get go, but it seems like she's just coming to terms with it now." Edward sighed. "Of course, it goes for me too. I will respect her wishes. Whatever she needs. If she needs to talk to me. Or even e-mail. Maybe that would be more comfortable. I want to help, you know I do. And if that means butting out... then so be it."

He could have told her about Bella's call. Perhaps he should have told her, but for some reason, Edward chose to keep it private. He would leave it up to Bella to tell her friends if she chose.

Maybe some part of him held some satisfaction that she'd turned to him in the night rather than her friends. It was a stupid thought, of course, seeing as she'd only called him because she found his name on paperwork for her apartment, but for once, Edward felt like he'd truly helped her. She'd slept, after all. His call timer indicated she hadn't hung up until after nine in the morning.

Rosalie promised she would relate to Bella that Edward was open to talking at any level she felt comfortable. He hoped the double meaning would not be lost on her. She was, of course, welcome to call him in the middle of the night. Any time, really.

Now it was a matter of waiting. Despite her severe panic attack, Bella still threw Rose out of her apartment that evening, determined not to regress.

But would she call again?

Edward was just about to drift back to an uneasy sleep when his blaring phone startled him into full wakefulness. He actually yelped, the noise was so loud.

Private number.

"Hello?"

There was a pause before she spoke. "How the hell do you run a company if you never sleep?" she snapped, sounding more jittery than irritated.

Edward's lip twitched upward. Her unease wasn't funny, but he couldn't deny he was relieved to hear her voice. The nights weren't easy for her even when someone she trusted was there with her, so it was better to know she was at least breathing steadily than to wonder.

"I think you just answered your own question," he pointed out mildly, keeping his tone light. "I never sleep."

"Everyone has to sleep sometimes." Her tone was bitter.

Emmett had observed just a couple weeks before how much it would suck to have to sleep knowing you were only going to be thrown into nightmares you couldn't control.

"Maybe I'm a vampire," Edward suggested, hoping levity was a good choice under the circumstances. He paused. "Or perhaps my CFO is woefully underpaid having to do both our jobs until I drag myself in in the morning. Or afternoon."

He wasn't rewarded with a laugh, but her quiet breathing on the other end of the phone wasn't labored either. For about a minute, they sat in this silence, both of them just breathing.

Edward was about to speak when he heard her suck in a sharp breath.

"Look. I'm not going to sue you, okay? If that's what you're expecting."

"I'm not expecting anything. And I wouldn't blame you if you did."

She scoffed. "Well, that's just fucking stupid. You didn't do anything to me. You didn't force me to sign up for your stupid site, and you didn't-" She cut off suddenly, her voice becoming a gasp.

He could guess what she'd been about to say - that he didn't force Mike to sign up either.

Her voice whined, but she caught herself before she lost control of her calm. The way she spoke was rushed and angry, like she was trying to spit it all out before fear could overtake her. "Whatever. The point is, I'm not going to sue you. There's no fucking point, so you're not obligated to me. You don't have to do anything for me."

Edward thought about this for a moment before he spoke, wondering if she would be receptive to his thoughts on the matter. "What if I'm not doing these things to ward off a lawsuit?" he asked gently.

"Or negative press. Whatever. I'm not going to do anything. I won't say bad things about your company."

"Bella... I mean, Miss Swan. Anything I've done - which is really not very much at all - has never been about that. It's never been about my company."

Her breath quickened and when she spoke again, her voice was timorous, the anger in her tone replaced by a desperation. "Then why? I don't understand. You don't know me. What do you want from me?"

"Nothing," he said quickly. "Absolutely nothing."

"There has to be a reason. If not for your company, then why? I don't understand." She sounded so confused his heart twisted.

He remembered, once, when he was young, some weeks after his mother was attacked, waking up in the middle of the night. He thought he heard a commotion and ran for his parents' bedroom, scared something was terribly wrong.

_He found his parents not in their room but downstairs and he knelt at the top of the stairs, listening as his mother sobbed._

_"I don't understand how you can look at me. I don't understand. Why do you love me? Why?" His mother's voice was nearly hysterical._

_His father gathered her in his arms, rocking her. "Oh, Esme... How could I not?"_

He didn't know how to explain it to Bella. Actually, he was fairly certain it would be a bad idea if he tried. It was the only explanation he needed for himself. When he'd heard so many sad stories, Edward wasn't in any mood to psychoanalyze why it meant so much to him for this particular girl to get the help she needed.

Why did he want to help Bella in any way possible? The real question was, how could he not?

Edward swallowed, trying to find other words. "It's... really unfair that you know better than most people how cruel strangers can be. But hasn't it occurred to you that strangers can also be kind?"

She had nothing to say to this, but at least she didn't argue.

The silence stretched on, and Edward thought he heard her sniffle, though it was muffled. He debated for a moment, trying to understand where she was leading him.

She hadn't hung up, after all. She wasn't screaming at him to leave her the hell alone.

"You know, I really actually dislike vampires as a mythological creature." He paused, and when she didn't react, he went on. "If you take into consideration they, like any species, must have evolved on Earth - at least in most myths I've heard - they're utterly ridiculous. How could a species survive whose main weakness is the sun? Think about the logistics there. It's the fucking sun. The entire reason any life on this planet exists is because of the sun..."

He babbled on, switching from one absurd subject to the next, careful to avoid any serious topic. Once, he thought he heard her huff - the vague approximation of what might eventually be a laugh.

She didn't speak, but she didn't hang up.

So Edward kept talking until they both fell asleep.

* * *

**A/N:My thanks to GinnyW, barburella, and jfka06 for help on this chapter.**

**So, lovelies, what are we thinking now?**


	9. Choices

**A/N: *holds your hand***

* * *

Bella stared out the window in the living room, glad she was so far up the people walking below couldn't hope to see her. She stared and wondered who these people were, where they were going.

Who they'd hurt.

"Do you want to take a walk today?"

Bella rubbed the back of her neck with her uncasted hand, not turning to look at Alice. Anxiety pricked at her skin every time the younger woman made this suggestion, which had been every day for the last two weeks.

"Maybe we can arrange a visit to Rosalie's classroom," Alice suggested. Rosalie taught kindergarten. "It would just be her and the kids. It might be a good first step, I think."

"Yeah, until I have a panic attack and traumatize them for life," Bella muttered bitterly.

"Well, maybe down to the lobby then." Alice showed absolutely no reaction to Bella's tone, simply going on to the next suggestion as if they were discussing what they wanted for lunch. "There's a bench. I could get us Starbucks and we can just sit for a few minutes."

Bella was silent.

"It will feel good to take another step," Alice encouraged lightly.

And it would feel horrible when she inevitably failed. The failures were always a thousand times more devastating than the triumphs were.

Bella laughed wryly. That her life had been reduced to a series of accomplishments and failures to merely survive every day felt pathetic.

"Alice?"

"Yes?"

"How old are you?"

It was a question she'd been wondering for a while, but Bella couldn't say she was interested in the moment. She was more eager to change the subject than anything else, before her anger and bitterness overwhelmed her.

Or before she could remember why she was so fucking broken.

Alice chuckled. "Okay, I'll tell you, but you have to remember I've been with you for the last four weeks," she said sternly. "I think I've been pretty professional, right?"

Her lightly defensive tone struck Bella as odd. She turned in her seat to face the young woman, genuinely curious. "Okay..." she said hesitantly.

"I'm eighteen."

That sent a jolt through Bella's system, which was an experience in and of itself. The only emotions Bella seemed to feel in any extreme degree was terror and anger. Everything else was muted. "But... I don't understand. How could you even be done with school?"

The raven haired young woman snickered. "Oh, I'm not done with school at all. I graduated early - when I was sixteen. Right now, I have my CNA license - that's what certifies me to be an in-home care provider. It's good experience. But I'm working toward my Bachelor of Science in Nursing."

It had been quite a while since Bella had tried to string so many thoughts together. She ran Alice's words over and over in her head, making sure she understood. Then she glanced down at the younger woman's hands, sure she'd missed something.

"Are you really married?" she blurted.

She wanted to feel bad for being rude, but apparently, one emotion at a time was more than she was capable of.

Alice laughed a little. "I sure am. My husband's name is Jasper. He's a lawyer."

"That's..." Bella had run out of words. She wasn't a stunning conversationalist lately.

"I know. Believe me, I've heard it all. But I'm happy with my life, you know?" Her smile was friendly.

"That's the most important thing," Bella said quietly.

When she looked up again, she saw that Alice had a hesitant expression on her face. Bella drew her legs up onto the chair she was sitting on, feeling her stomach twist in automatic anxiety.

"You look nervous," Alice said lightly. "Please don't be. I was just wondering if I should tell you a little about me."

Bella had to swallow a few times before she was sure her voice wouldn't shake. "Okay."

"You remember you said I never seemed surprised by some of your... reactions to things?"

Bella flinched a little but nodded. Alice was never as freaked out as Rosalie or Angela when she had a panic attack. Where her friends stumbled, trying to figure out their boundaries or completely unable to hide their hurt when Bella didn't respond the way they wanted her to, Alice never reacted. She went with the flow. Occasionally, she knew exactly the right thing to say.

She reminded Bella of Edward that way.

"Well, I think it's probably fair for you to know why your friends picked me specifically for this job. One of the reasons is because I've..." She screwed up her lips, watching Bella carefully for her reaction. "I guess you can say I had a... different upbringing. My family - we're all very involved in the rape survivor community."

Bella cringed at that word, physically recoiling.

"With good reason," Alice continued, her voice steady, her eyes watchful. "My mother was attacked."

"I'm sorry," Bella murmured, highly uncomfortable but riveted by Alice's confession.

"It was before I was born." Alice paused. "It was about nine months before I was born."

It took a full five seconds for that information to sink in. Then, her mind went stark white. Her breath came in sharp gasps, her eyes pricking with tears. Her head spun wildly.

Her first and one of her worst panic attacks occurred at the hospital, when they informed her the morning after pill wouldn't be effective to prevent a pregnancy that was the result of the first series of assaults.

Already she carried the unrelenting sense of filth and degradation like a second skin she couldn't shed no matter how often or long she bathed. Already the shame of what she'd been through may as well have been printed on her flesh, in plain sight even though most of her body was completely covered. She felt a coldness at her very core that kept her shivering though she wore layer upon layer of clothing.

If she had gotten pregnant those two and a half days...

She'd been utterly unable to fathom the concept, disturbed to the point of panic at the very idea.

Yet here was Alice - the woman who'd taken care of her for four of the five weeks she'd been out of the hospital. This woman had been unerringly kind and gentle. This woman had never hurt her. She was good.

She was the product of someone else's torment.

"I'm s-s-sorry," Bella gasped, trying to find control again. She found she couldn't look at the young woman, as terrible as that made her feel.

"It's fine," Alice said, her voice only sounding a little sad. "I wouldn't have told you unless I wanted to."

"That's just... I can't..."

"Hey, who knows, right? It's probably the reason I do everything early - school, marriage, a job. There wasn't a lot of innocence in my childhood.

"I guess, what I'm trying to say is everyone out there has a story, a past. I've met so many women - so many people with such horrible stories. Believe me, I understand that there's no limit to the different and varied ways we humans can hurt each other."

Bella's breathing was getting a little steadier. It was easier to listen to the steady, musical cadence of Alice's voice.

"But for all that bad, there's a lot of good out there too," the other woman said softly. "I know you're not ready yet, but there are people you're going to meet who will become so important to you - strangers who are going to help you. I've seen it happen over and over again. You're going to find something really beautiful out of all this."

The laugh that tumbled out of Bella's mouth was a strained, strangled thing. "I guess I should feel lucky - this thing happened to me so I could find something beautiful."

"No, not at all." Alice didn't apologize for her choice of words like Bella's friends would have. Her tone was gentle and matter-of-fact. "Horrible things happen to amazing people. It isn't right, and it isn't fair, but it is what it is. You can't change the fact of what happened to you any more than I can change the way I was created."

Bella felt skittish. She actually jumped a little as Alice spoke.

She wasn't used to anyone verbally acknowledging anything had happened to her. Her friends tiptoed around it. Doctors were clinical, addressing only one issue, one injury at a time.

They sat in silence for a while before Alice walked slowly to where Bella sat and knelt on the floor. Making sure Bella could see her, the other woman touched her knee with a light pressure. Bella started but didn't yank away.

"It's up to you what you're going to do with that information. I just want you to know, there are a lot of people out there who can help you make sense of all this."

Bella scoffed. She couldn't help it.

"One step at a time, honey. Just remember it's not all bad."

Bella didn't say anything, but then, it was clear Alice didn't expect her to. The younger woman lingered only a few more seconds before she stood again, asking Bella if she wanted something to drink.

As she sipped the orange juice Alice brought her, Bella let her thoughts wander. Her thoughts were doing a delicate dance, like a butterfly not quite daring to land for more than a couple seconds before it flitted back into the air. She wasn't sure what she felt about Alice's revelation.

A random thought amidst a thousand random thoughts popped briefly to the forefront.

Alice did remind her so much of Edward.

_**~0~**_

For the last two weeks, Bella had called him nearly every night.

She still hadn't told her friends about him. Then again, neither had he.

_"You should tell me to fuck off," she said in greeting one night. Her tone was terse, but that was the norm. He assumed she only called him when she got too desperate, too close to panicking at night. "I mean, really. This is a little psychotic."_

_"I don't think it's psychotic."_

_"Well, if you wanted to talk to me, you'd call me."_

_"Bella, I don't have your phone number," Edward said quietly._

_For a few moments, she was silent. "Would you call if you had my phone number?" There was a tightness to her voice, as if she wasn't sure she liked that idea._

_"I'm just saying, I don't have the option to call you," he said quickly. "But I've told you before, you're not a bother."_

She had scoffed and hadn't offered up her phone number, but she called again the next night.

According to Rose and Emmett, Bella was progressing. She was slowly gaining back her ability to concentrate, and had even taken on one or two accounts from her job. She was frustrated with her progress - she'd been able to handle over fifty accounts before, now she struggled with two - but she was moving forward.

They kept her moving forward, hoping soon she wouldn't be so afraid of the outside world.

The media attention surrounding the case was an added complication. Bella's picture had been splashed across newspapers and news programs nationwide. Bella was well aware a lot of people knew who she was and so many were dying for her side of the story. She'd gotten countless offers from news organizations. Angela had taken over the job of going through her mail, setting aside letters Bella might one day want to read and destroying the fucked up ones - inevitable when her story was so widespread and people, as they were wont to do, reacted in a wide and varied way.

Luckily, it seemed as though the world was moving on. Still, they worried.

Her friends wanted to encourage her to speak to someone, maybe join a support group, but the last thing she needed was to become a freakshow. Even rape survivors weren't above being curious. Bella's attacker wasn't a nameless face known to no one but the victim. Mike Newton was a serial killer.

So Edward continued to be relieved when she didn't shut him out, when she continued to call.

The nights she didn't call were the worst for both of them, for much different reasons.

Edward found he couldn't hope to rest at night until he knew she was okay. So those few nights he didn't hear from her, his imagination ran away from him.

Unfortunately, his worries usually proved right. Invariably, Rosalie would call him for lunch because her night with Bella had been very bad. Bella's flashbacks and fear was horrible enough it left _Rosalie _shaking for days afterward.

Tonight, Edward was especially worried Bella wouldn't call. Guessing what would trigger an anxiety attack was never a fair or good game to play, but the day had to have been stressful for her.

Emmett had vented to him, angry because Agents Scarpinato and Ricci were requesting to see her. On the one hand, he understood their need. Bella was invaluable, having survived where other women had perished. On the other hand, it was frustrating. Bella wasn't ready to relive her experiences for the purposes of moving on, it seemed unfair she had to do it to help keep a man who had, without a shadow of a doubt, kidnapped, tortured, and assaulted her behind bars.

"_They caught him red-fucking-handed_," Emmett had growled. "_Lock him the fuck up and throw away the key, and he'd be lucky_."

Edward was sitting at his desk, staring sightlessly at his computer screen. He was behind in his work, and should have been taking this time to catch up, but he was too anxious.

He tapped his foot restlessly.

It was one in the morning when his phone rang.

"Hello?"

She was already crying hard enough she couldn't speak right away. Edward ran his free hand through his hair, gripping tight, closing his eyes because being strong enough not to cry himself at her distress wasn't always easy.

The last two weeks, he'd asked her every once in awhile, "Do you want to talk about anything?"

It was a fairly innocent question, open-ended so she could have talked about the price of rice in China if that's what was on her mind.

She'd never taken advantage of his offer, but that night, before he could speak again, she started talking in a rush.

"He was going to kill me."

Her breath ran out in a wheeze at the end of that simple sentence and she gasped, the sound bleak with despair.

It was surprising how those six words were like an anvil hitting his chest, crushing him to the ground. Edward's heart skipped a beat.

He knew, of course. Logically, he knew how easily she could have died. Knowing and letting the knowledge of those words sink into understanding were two very different things.

How close they all came to losing her.

"Bella." He whispered her name, the sound choked, and he had to close his eyes, trying to regain control.

She gulped a handful of times more before she spoke again. "The um... the cops sent a girl over. Agent Heidi... Whatever." She sniffled loudly. "They wanted... They wanted to know more about the ritual." Her laugh was maniacal. "There was a ritual. When he was going to kill them, there was a ritual."

Edward was not oblivious to the attempt to distance herself, using them instead of me.

"Just... fuck. _Fuck_!" she shouted loud enough Edward flinched. Her voice was piercing in his ears. He couldn't tell if she was furious or panicked or terrified or some emotion in between.

"You know what the fucking bitch of it is? It was my choice." The last four words came out as a keen, the sound drawn out and mournful. "It was my fucking choice!"

Edward swallowed hard, forcing his voice to be calm. "What was?"

A gasp, then another. "I knew," she said in a tiny voice. "I knew what was going to happen. H-he had been touching me... telling me how good it would be."

Edward's stomach twisted sickeningly.

As often as the voice on the other end of the line when he worked at the rape crisis center was the victim of a senseless, devastating crime, Edward had also gotten a fair amount of calls from the friends, family, boyfriends, even strangers these victims had chosen to open up to. It was never an easy thing to hear - the depths of cruelty one human being could inflict on another. When it was your friend, your sister, your girlfriend, your wife, your mother, knowing the specifics of what happened was as close to madness as anyone could get.

Edward still flinched when his mother told the very basics of her story to other survivors, in groups, in meetings.

And as many stories as he'd heard, as many times as he'd sat on the other end of the line, letting them vent as they so desperately needed to about whatever tiny detail stuck out in their mind, it was never as difficult as it was to listen to Bella's story.

So many times, Edward wanted to beg her to stop, not to say anything more. How could he stand knowing this? How could he stand having these thoughts in his head, being forced to carry them for the rest of his life?

But Bella didn't have a choice, and as far as Edward was concerned, neither did he. He remained silent, listening as long as she wanted to speak. He knew it was important. He knew she had to get it out, and part of him knew it was better this way, better that she started to express these things rather than let them fester, rotting inside her while she wasted away around it.

By the end, Edward's cheeks were wet with tears. He had his free hand pressed hard against his mouth, muffling the sound of his anguish at what this woman had suffered. Guilt made his blood run freezing cold, and his body was tense from the automatic reaction, the need to go and find that fucking monster, rip him out from behind bars and drive his fist into his face until Mike fucking Newton was nothing but wet flesh.

He was breathing. She was breathing. Both facts seemed like a miracle in that endlessly painful moment.

"I had a choice," she repeated in a broken whisper. "I could have just pissed him off. He would have killed me before... before..."

"Bella," Edward's voice was gravelly with emotion he couldn't suppress. "That's not a choice. That's not a choice at all."

She was quiet save for a few whimpers as she cried. "What difference would it have made to anyone but me whether I lived or died?" she asked. There was no volume nor inflection to her voice then. "I'm no one. I'm no one's daughter, granddaughter, sister, aunt, wife, mother. I don't even have cousins. I'm nothing. Why did I let him... when it meant nothing to no one that I survived?"

Before he could even think what to say to this, she laughed somewhat maniacally. "I mean, what did it matter in the long run? I was too fucking stupid anyway. I fucked up. He was going to kill me. He would have, if they hadn't found me first."

Edward swallowed hard. The lump in his throat was as painful as the vice grip around his heart and lungs. The agony he felt for what this woman had suffered was a crushing weight on his body. There was absolutely nothing he wouldn't give if it meant he could help her, could fix her, could make it so she didn't sound so entirely, heart wrenchingly shattered.

"None of it was your fault." This was the most important thing. It would be a long time before she truly believed it, and that was why it was important for someone to say it. "And you're not nothing. Think of your friends. I saw Rosalie and Emmett a lot while you were missing. I've seen them a lot recently. Maybe you're not related, but do you think that means they love you any less?"

"They have their own lives," Bella argued weakly. "Yeah, they would have been sad, but they would have been fine without me. No one is depending on me."

"You can't know that," Edward said softly, wiping away the tears that continued to fall slowly from the corners of his eyes. "You can't know how important you are in someone else's life."

He took a deep breath, willing himself to calm, to keep his voice steady. "And anyway, it's not them you fought for is it? It was you. Your life. You weren't ready to quit."

Bella's breath came and went for a full minute before she spoke again so softly, Edward thought he might have imagined it. "Sometimes I don't know. Sometimes I don't know if I want it."

Edward closed his eyes, absolutely certain he didn't want to understand what she was talking about. "What?" he forced himself to ask.

"Life," she answered. It was such a simple word for the effect it had. Edward felt leveled, his heart a city razed to cinders and ashes.

"Bella-"

"Please," she interrupted him. "Just talk to me. I'm so tired. I'm so fucking tired."

Edward gulped once, twice, a third time, swallowing his anguish and helplessness. He wanted to take away all her pain and he couldn't. It was killing him that he couldn't.

So he just talked and talked about nothing until the sun came up and a new day began.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you to my girls for letting me bug them incessantly, making sure the wording says exactly what I want it to say.**

**And so much thanks to all of you for your response to this fic. Really. So much puffy hearts. So much.**


	10. Flashback

**A/N: Just to clear this up cuz it looks like a few missed it. Alice is Edward's sister (half-sister to be precise). Everyone knows this except Bella at this point.**

**Dedication: To barburella... who made me promise. You don't fuck with a woman who's had that much wine.**

* * *

_It was Mike who messed up first._

_Bella was already walking a thin line at that point. What she wanted more than anything was to float away. She wanted the luxury of pretending this wasn't happening to her, that this madman wasn't telling her how much he loved her as he kept her tied up and helpless against her will. She wanted to find a safer place in her mind, where she didn't have to sit on his lap and pretend they were lovers enjoying each other's company._

_Her mind tugged at her, desperate to pull away, desperate to escape this perpetual creepiness and disgust. She flinched whenever he touched her._

_It was getting toward evening on the eleventh day when Mike slipped._

_They were in the living room. He'd been petting her, kissing her, pushing her onto her back on the couch._

_And as suddenly as he'd started, he'd stopped, told her he'd be right back, kissed her cheek and jaunted off toward the bathroom._

_At first, Bella's mind reeled, deliriously, maniacally glad for any kind of respite. She turned over, pressing her face into the couch, drowning out the sound of her gasps as she tried not to lose her sanity. She wrapped her arms around her torso, hugging herself, curling into as tight a ball as she-_

_Her hands were free._

_She remembered he'd untied her from the chair after dinner, and then led her to the living room..._

_And he hadn't tied her wrists together again._

_And she'd wasted precious minutes of her time because she didn't realize it._  
_  
That was when Bella made the mistake that would lead to her death. Even though she'd wasted the time she needed to make her escape, she tried to run anyway._

_He caught her just as she got the lock to the front door open._

_She tasted fresh air, saw that they were out in the woods with no one around, before he tackled her to the ground._

_And then she knew she was going to die._

Bella flinched, coming awake with a cry and start. Her breath was erratic, her lungs tight as her eyes darted around the room, trying figure out what was real. She moved too quickly when she tried to sit up and groaned, laying back down on the couch with her head spinning crazily.

A familiar voice called her name, his tone scratchy with sleep.

Edward - the voice on the phone.

It was morning. She'd just spent yet another night listening to him talk until she fell asleep, and as usual, he was there when she woke up.

Most of the time, she listened to his breath come and go for minutes until she hung up the phone. She wondered if it was creepy to find it so soothing.

"Bella?" he said again. "Are you okay?"

She was as well as she could be after waking up from a flashback. Her throat and chest were tight, anxiety was thick in her bloodstream, but she wasn't panicked.

It did feel odd, though... talking to him in the daylight.

Bella hung up the phone.

She stared at it for a minute, running her hand restlessly through her hair as she contemplated the man who lived, for the moment, solely in that little device.

Another week and a half had passed since she broke down and blurted some of the things that had been weighing on her for all these weeks. After her conversation with the agent - Agent Heidi Anderson - Bella finally had to accept how close she'd come to dying. If Mike hadn't had his psychotic ritual, if the FBI hadn't found his father's name and an old hunting cabin off the beaten path the man used to own, she would be long dead. Tortured and dead.

She had to tell someone. She had to. The voices were too loud and insistent in her head. The knowledge of what Mike had done, what she let him do, and the mistakes she made burned in her veins, stifling her like acrid smoke in her lungs. She had to get it out. Out of her.

But how could she tell Rosalie? How could she let her friend know what had happened to her? How could she give Rosalie or Emmett or Angela that vision of her? They knew what had happened to her in the abstract. They'd seen her injuries, and she'd let the doctor talk to them about everything else. But how could she turn that general knowledge into images that were too vivid to let go?

It took forever that night before Rosalie would leave, but almost the minute she did, Bella was fumbling for her phone, for the faceless voice.

Edward.

It wasn't normal and it probably wasn't right, what she was doing to this man. It had started off as anger because what right did this stranger have to control so much of her life? He controlled her rent, her bills. And part of her still resented that - that she _needed_his intrusion. She couldn't think about moving somewhere else. Even if the very thought of apartment hunting didn't make her throat close with anxiety, there was always security to consider. She couldn't afford the level of security, the tiny shred of peace, this apartment gave her.

She accepted his help, but that didn't mean she had to like it.

Maybe it wasn't fair, but she kept him faceless. He was a name that floated around between her friends: Edward who had lunch frequently with Rosalie; Edward who had a flat screen that Emmett loved to visit.

Edward who talked to her every night she called even when she couldn't talk back.

She thought about giving him a face. It wouldn't take much more than a Google search. She knew he'd given a short press conference, a statement about his company's role in what had happened to her and the promise of his personal involvement in promoting safety awareness.

Still, doing that - and hearing his voice when it was light out - took his involvement in her life to a level Bella wasn't sure she was comfortable with.

If he had a face, she would be able to imagine the pity or worse, the disgust, etched into his features. The things he knew about her... the secrets she'd whispered only to him because he wasn't entirely real...

Bella shook her head.

It was just one of a million little things she didn't know how to deal with. Everything was so overwhelming these days. Though her inability to cope left her frustrated beyond measure, Bella had to force herself to realize she could only reassemble her life a single piece at a time. If only the pieces of her shattered life weren't mere slivers with jagged edges, maybe she could move a little faster.

She wondered vaguely if she could hire one of those FBI people who pieced together shredded documents. Wasn't that what she was doomed to anyway? Wasn't that what she was: a dilapidated, badly mangled, barely put back together mess?

It made her angry. It made her so g'damn tired she wished sometimes she could just lay her head down, go to sleep and not have to wake up again.

A knock on the door followed by the key turning in the lock drew Bella back into the present. "Hey, Bella," Angela greeted with a smile.

What an unappreciative thought it was to even consider giving up. Rosalie, Emmett, and Angela were working their asses off to be there for her, patiently carrying the pieces of her shattered life that she didn't know where to fit yet.

Hell, even as far removed from him as she was, Bella could acknowledge that Edward was in her corner too. She didn't understand why, but he was there - a part of the fabric of this new reality she was slowly creating.

She had a new mantra.

_The bastard didn't kill me. I'm going to live. I have things to do, and I'm going to do them._

Maybe she didn't believe it yet, but she wasn't going to forget it - if only because the people who'd helped her deserved that much.

_**~0~**_

It couldn't be denied that some days were worse than others. All of her days existed in some bleak shade, but some days were so dark, they were black.

Bella hadn't been out of her apartment in over six weeks.

It couldn't be avoided forever; she'd always known that. But she'd put off follow-up appointments until she reached one she couldn't put off. Really, part of her didn't want to put it off.

The restricting cast on her arm was more than a little annoying.

When _he'd_thrown her down the stairs, it had broken her right arm in multiple places, necessitating both a cast on the lower part, keeping her elbow crooked, and the bizarre pins that stuck out of her skin, making Bella look the part of the hideous creature she sometimes felt like.

It was time now to remove the cast, take a look at what damage remained. Bella vaguely remembered the doctor talking about physical therapy and possible nerve damage. And then there were her other injuries which needed to be checked up on.

There were several doctors she had to see that day. It made Emmett, especially, very nervous. When it was an obvious stressor, he didn't understand why she was going to visit not one but three doctors that day - all at once.

"Won't it be too much?" he worried.

One doctor was already too much, she thought but didn't say. She just wanted it all over with.

Her friends were wonderful. Angela sat in the backseat with Bella on the drive to the hospital, holding her hand. Bella kept her eyes closed, not looking outside at all but trying to control her breathing. When they walked into the hospital, they surrounded her. Rosalie and Angela walked on either side of her, Emmett in front of them - Bella got too nervous still when he was behind her - like a sentinel.

Still, there was no way Bella was making it through the day without copious quantities of every anti-anxiety med they had her on.

Bella tried to breathe steadily as the doctor gingerly examined the burns she'd sustained to her shoulders. By then, Bella was doped to the gills, which was just as well because if she hadn't been, she would have been in the throes of a very nasty panic attack.

The drugs didn't suppress the auditory images. She still heard Mike's voice in her ear as the doctor checked on the burns that marked her back. Rosalie was standing in front of her, holding her hands, letting Bella rest her head on her shoulder while she quaked.

_The day after she'd tried to escape, he'd tied her to one of the sturdy chairs in the kitchen, on her knees behind it, with her arms spread above. _

_"I told you, boy," he muttered, sounding high pitched and entirely deranged. "I told you. Little Mikey is too much of a fucking pussy to keep a woman in line." He shoved her face hard against the chair, making Bella cry out with the pain that sliced through her arm and with fear because she knew he was going to hurt her - truly hurt her._

_"Why?" he shouted in her ear. "You were supposed to be different. You weren't supposed to fuck up like the others."_

_"Please," she begged, her voice a pitiful whine._

_"Shut up!" he demanded. She screamed again when he pulled at her shirt roughly. The ripping sound as it began to tear was one of the most terrible things she would ever hear in her life. He shoved the torn fabric down so her shoulders and back were partially exposed. "You shut the fuck up and take what's coming to you."_

_Frightened almost out of her mind, Bella could hardly process the sounds around her to comprehend what was going on. She heard the stove flick on and her blood ran cold with dread. He was muttering to himself in that maniacal, high voice again. "Little Mikey. You gotta pay for your transgressions, boy. You pay the price with fire so you remember. You don't ever forget."_

_His every footfall as he walked back to her echoed in her body like a reckoning. Bella pressed her face into the wood of the chair, not looking but feeling the heat of his body as he knelt behind her. When she felt his fingers on her bare skin, she cut off her scream in a yelp, pressing her lips together though she was trembling and crying._

_"What'd I tell you, boy?" he muttered, his fingertips ghosting over the spot where her parents' tattoo was. "Never trust a woman who marks herself up like a whore."_

_Then he pressed the red hot metal of a flame-heated knife to her bare skin._

"Honey? We're done, okay? Just breathe. We're all done."

Bella's head spun as she tried to remember what was real. She gulped in air greedily, forcing herself to think. The air here was the same recycled too-clean scent all hospitals existed in. The smell of her own singed flesh wasn't one she would ever forget. This room didn't smell like that. The ache in her body wasn't at all the same as the pain of the burn.

She wasn't there.

Mike was locked away. He couldn't hurt her anymore.

"Poor thing," she heard the doctor comment, her voice soft and full of pity.

Bella was barely listening as the doctor explained to Rosalie that the burns were healing nicely. There was no permanent damage.

"There's not much that can be done about the scarring. If she's interested, I can give you a referral to a great plastic surgeon, but no promises there. If she wants to touch up that tattoo, I'd wait until at least the six month mark to try." The doctor sighed. "Poor thing," she said again.

Poor thing.

She wasn't even human anymore, wasn't in the room, wasn't an adult the doctor could talk to straight.

She was just a lump. Hanging on. Barely there - branded and broken.

_**~0~**_

Somehow, Bella got through all her appointments. It was done. She was free of the cast and the pins. The doctor gave her a brace to wear and gently advised her to make an appointment with a physical therapist.

Luckily for Bella, Rosalie was listening carefully. Bella, on the other hand, was fading in and out. It was too much stimuli to handle, too many strange people touching her, too many more strange people around her.

And of course, the flashbacks.

Each memory was acute - an ice pick shoved right into her heart. Even with the meds keeping her system in a lethargic state, the remembered terror that went straight to to the marrow of her bones, spread through her body with every beat of her heart, was impossible to outrun.

Her conscious mind retreated, curling up in some small corner until it all faded away.

It was well into evening before Bella came back to herself.

She blinked and breathed as if coming out of a trance. The senseless noises around her sharpened into conversation.

The haze around her thoughts clung stubbornly - cotton caught scraggly tree limbs - so it was hard to concentrate on what was being said.

She was sitting in her living room on the couch. Rosalie was beside her on one side, Angela on the other. Emmett was in his chair at the center of the room where she could always see him.

Conversation drifted in and out of Bella's consciousness, but her ears perked when she heard Edward's name.

"Well, either way you should meet Edward anyway," Rosalie was saying. "If Alice is right about this Ben guy, it would just be a perk."

"I have been wanting to meet Edward for a while," Angela hemmed. "But really, Alice is too much. Is it weird she wants to set me up with a stranger?"

"I think it's sweet," Emmett said. "That whole family is sweet. Doesn't mean you have to do it, of course, but I think her heart is in the right place. If Ben is a friend of theirs-"

"Who's Ben?" Bella's voice was scratchy and too loud to her own ears. When her friends jumped a little in surprise, she looked down, tugging at the sleeves of the oversized sweatshirt she wore. "Sorry."

"There you are," Emmett said with relief.

Bella frowned and didn't look up.

Rosalie cleared her throat. "Ben is Edward's CFO."

"Oh," Bella said dully.

For a minute, she thought she might retreat again, but synapses were firing in her brain. There was something here that wasn't adding up.

"Wait... Alice knows Edward's CFO?" she asked. That didn't make sense.

When she looked up, Rosalie looked a little guilty. "Alice is a good nurse. She works well for you, right?" she asked, a touch defensive.

Bella just stared. She was trying to make her mind work, trying to figure out what she was missing. "Okay."

"I should have told you this before, but it's not a big deal," Rosalie said firmly if a little nervously. She took a breath. "Alice is Edward's little sister."

Bella snatched her hand out of Rosalie's as if she'd been burned. She reeled, not knowing how she was supposed to react to this information. She didn't quite know why it sparked her sense of paranoia, but she didn't know why it shouldn't either.

It felt once again like Edward had some sort of control of her life. Too many eyes. Too many eyes and ears on her, reporting back to him. It made it all the worse that none of them had told her. Not her friends who had to have known from the start. Not Edward who babbled about the most inane thing but neglected to mention...

Anything personal ever.

Bella closed her eyes and breathed deep.

"Are you mad?" It was Emmett who asked. "Really, we... I didn't think it mattered. Alice takes good care of you. Isn't that all that matters?

"I'm not mad," Bella said in a small voice. And she wasn't. She had been a split second ago, but her mood had swung again as she tried to string together coherent, logical thoughts without spiraling into irrational conspiracy theories.

There was a disconnect happening somewhere. Her world consisted of relatively little outside the three friends who now sat around her. There was her boss who she talked to mostly via e-mail and even then sporadically as she only finished a piece of work here and there. There was Alice - who as Rosalie and Emmett pointed out had done nothing but take good care of her.

Alice who was the product of something horrible happening to another woman.

Edward's mother.

Edward's mother had been assaulted, impregnated.

Edward who spent hour upon hour of his own life talking to her about trivial nonsense - things that couldn't possibly trigger her or make her uneasy until she fell asleep. Who had done everything in his power to make things easier for her.

Why. She kept asking why.

Edward... the only person in her little world who had no face.

But now he had a past.

Her friends had met him, seen him, liked him.

Her worlds were intermingling, and Bella wasn't sure she liked it. Her psyche cried out against change. Edward belonged in her little phone, his voice in her ear at night. He was safe there. She _needed _him there.

But if he was going to insist on leaking into her real life...

Bella looked up at her friends, gnawing on her lip because the idea of what she was about to propose didn't make her comfortable. It made her stomach twist. It made her muscles ache with tension. She breathed shallowly.

"I want to meet him. I want to meet Edward."

* * *

**A/N: Omai. **

**Mega thanks to GinnyW for putting up with my shiz. **

**Okay. So. How are we feeling about this chapter and meeting Edward?**


	11. Ready or Not

**A/N: Oh, my darlings. We're all proud of Bella. And scared for her. Let's see how this plays out.**

* * *

Edward was having a hard time concentrating. Ben was obviously trying to kill him scheduling this meeting for ten in the morning when he knew damn well Edward hadn't been sleeping.

Then, maybe if he told Ben why he wasn't sleeping, the man might have had more sympathy.

As it was, Ben was trying to urge him out of this rut he was in.

Edward had to admit he'd been a little checked out at work. His passion was gone. But how could he be passionate about pairing people up when he knew now how things could work out?

Statistically speaking, it was unlikely he was going to lead another serial killer to his or her victim. Still, what other monsters was he connecting? Whose story was he helping write? Maybe not murderers, but who knew. Friends had killed each other, lovers even more so.

Rapists, molesters, cheats, thieves, abusers.

They all wore human masks.

Somehow, Edward managed to get through the meeting. He dragged himself toward his office just wanting to be alone.

Of course, it wasn't to be.

"Edward, there's an Emmett McCarty waiting for you?" his assistant said as he approached.

Edward straightened a bit, automatically wondering if something had happened with Bella. He walked a little faster.

Emmett was unquestionably pissed. The last time Edward had seen him look so livid was when they were in the hospital when Bella had first been found. "Emmett?"

The larger man stood, slamming Edward's door shut before he shoved him. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded in a snarl.

"You're going to have to be more specific," Edward said calmly, careful not to let his irritation get the best of him until he knew what the heck was going on.

Emmett was up in his personal space, purposefully trying to be intimidating. It was working. The man was immense. "You've been talking to Bella," he accused. "For weeks. Without telling us!"

Edward looked down, cupping the nape of his neck self-consciously. "She told you."

"_You_should have told me. All this time, we were amazed she was doing so well most nights." He shook his head. "It should have been us helping her."

"That's not what Bella wanted," Edward said evenly. "And it wasn't up to me to tell you. She called me. I assumed when she wanted you to know, she would tell you. Her choice."

Emmett shoved him again. Edward was annoyed, but he let it happen. He'd been expecting this.

"We tell you everything!" Emmett shouted. "Every single time, we tell you what she's going through. What is your issue, man? What gives you the right to be there for her like that when it should be us?! And you can't tell us? What if it could help us help her!?" He grabbed Edward by his shirt and shook him. "I just want to help her!"

Edward waited, doubting anything he said could sink in with Emmett in his state. He kept his hands down by his side while the other man breathed. Slowly, his shoulders slumped. He let Edward go, pushing him away.

"I already told you." Edward's tone was calm. "Bella called me out of the blue. I still don't have her number. If she wanted you to know about those phone calls, she would have told you. I wasn't about to take that away from her."

"You think she wants us to come to you? You think she wants us to tell you when her panic attacks get bad or when we're worried? You think she wants us to tell you any of that?" Emmett challenged. "And we still do."

"You don't talk to me for her benefit. You talk to me for yours. Which is fine. You need a place to vent, Emmett. The things she tells you, the things you see her go through... I can't even imagine."

"So who do you go to?" Emmett flopped down on the couch, his arms folded. He looked like an oversized, grumpy toddler.

Edward sat beside him. "It's not like that. Bella doesn't vent to me - not really." He was dodging the truth a bit. It was likely he should have told them she was having thoughts of dying. It was understandable and normal, of course, and he thought they might overreact.

And if he had told them, and they reacted, Bella would never trust him again.

"Is it so different that she called me instead of a crisis hotline? It happens a lot. I suspect it's because it's easier to let a faceless stranger listen to you freak out than have your friends see you that way."

Emmett looked up, his expression half glare half concern. "If you're the way she's been getting through the night... why would she want to change that?"

Edward didn't follow. "What do you mean?"

"She wants to meet you," the other man grumbled. "Yesterday, she found out Alice is your sister, and she freaked out a little."

"Oh no." Edward grimaced. "How did that happen?"

"She was so spaced out. After her doctors appointments she just... wasn't there." Emmett's face crumpled a little. "Angela was talking about Alice wanting her to meet your friend... what's his name."

"Ben," Edward supplied.

"Yeah. Angela wants to meet you too, by the way." Emmett sighed. "Anyway. Honestly... I forgot Bella was there." He bowed his head, looking guilty. "Until she started asking who Ben was. And then how Alice knew Ben. And like I said, she freaked out but not too bad. Then..."

"She asked to meet me," Edward repeated. He ran his hands through his hair, restless and suddenly very nervous.

They sat in silence for a while.

"So what do you talk about if she doesn't talk to you?" Emmett sounded jealous. "I mean, I haven't had a decent conversation with the girl in months."

"We don't talk," Edward said sadly. "Mostly she just listens."

"Listens to what?"

"Me. I got the idea from you, actually. Rosalie said you just talked to get her used to your voice."

Emmett nodded. "At first, my voice scared her. It would make her jump. So I sat where she could see me and just... talked."

"Yeah. I think she just doesn't want to be alone at night."

"Well, we're there." Emmett sounded annoyed again. "Me and Rose - we always stay when she asks."

"Maybe she doesn't want to have to ask you."

For a minute, Emmett was silent. "It's just frustrating, you know? I can't even hug her. I just..."

"You want her to be better."

"I just want her to be Bella again."

Edward was quiet for a moment before he spoke. "You know she's never going to be the girl you knew again. It's not fair of you to expect that."

The way Emmett sucked in a breath, Edward expected him to start yelling. Instead, he slumped forward even further so his head was resting on his knees again. "Yeah."

"It's okay to grieve for the friend you lost."

Emmett's breath was ragged. "Just... don't. She's not dead."

"No. But it helps sometimes, to accept she's never going to be the same." Edward rested his hand on the larger man's tense shoulder. "It takes an open mind to get to know the person she's becoming."

Emmett shrugged off his hand. "Fuck you, okay? You think you have all the answers."

Edward didn't say anything.

"So are you coming or what?"

Anxiety made it difficult for Edward to breathe past the lump that rose to his throat. He was terrified. It had given him some measure of comfort that he'd been able to be there for Bella in the middle of the night, that she'd turned to him. If she made him real in a manner of speaking, would she still let him do that for her?

Speaking of not wanting things to change.

"Yeah," Edward said quickly. "Of course. Whatever she wants."

_**~0~**_

Of course Bella wasn't sure of what she was doing. That went without saying.

As a voice on the phone, Edward was innocuous. He was better than television because he was at least a little predictable. There would be no surprises. No topics she couldn't quite handle yet.

His voice was warmer, too. Comforting. Like a blanket. Sometimes it was the only warmth she felt. These days the chill on her skin went right down to her bones.

In person he could be anything. What if he was big like Emmett? What if he was handsy? What if he just _looked _mean?

Then again, her first thought on seeing Mike's picture all those months ago was that he looked nice.

Emmett and Rosalie assured her Edward was nice. Hell, Bella had often thought he was a kind soul. Wasn't that what he told her? Strangers could be kind.

How desperately Bella wanted to believe that kind of person existed in this world so full of cruelties.

It took two nights after the day of doctor's appointments before Bella was able to summon the willpower she needed to kick her friends out of the apartment again. That third night, though she tried not to think about it, all Bella could think about was her upcoming meeting with Edward.

For fuck's sake, he didn't have time to be doing anything nefarious. Most nights he spent talking to her about nothing and he ran a company during the day - that was verifiable. And Emmett and Rosalie were with him frequently. When would he have had time to throw in a murder?

He was a nice guy, truly.

Bella closed her eyes, bitterly afraid. She wished she could go back to being innocently naive. In another life, having a relative stranger over for dinner with all her other friends present would have worried her not at all.

But she hadn't worried about anything except what this guy might think of her before she went on her date with Mike...

Her chest began to tighten as her mind was assaulted with memories. Mike sitting across from her smiling. Talking. Nice.

The strange things he had said that set off warning bells.

Why hadn't she listened? Why?

Bella had the phone in her hand and she was dialing before she realized it. She didn't fully comprehend what she'd done until she heard his surprised voice.

"Hello? Bella?"

"What am I to you? And please don't tell me you're doing this because strangers can be kind. There's a difference between kindness and... this."

He let out a soft sigh. "I thought we were past the point where you felt I wanted anything from you."

"You have to want something - even if it's just for me to shut the fuck up." She held the phone to one ear and her hand over the other, rocking.

"No. I don't want that," he said softly. "I suppose... It's all up to you, but I was hoping we could be friends."

She scoffed. She couldn't help it. "Why would you want to be friends with me? I mean... just based on what you know about me. What the hell gives you the impression I'd be a good friend?"

"You've been a good friend to Rosalie and Emmett," he pointed out mildly.

"Not recently."

"I'm not saying we'll be great friends, but I'm certainly open to the idea. You asked me what I wanted - what I stand to gain, I assume. The only thing I could possibly want from you is friendship, and that's conditional on if it was what you wanted." He paused. "Everyone needs friends."

"Yeah. That's what I need. More friends. If I didn't have friends breathing down my neck in the first place, insisting I needed to get out there and date, none of this would have happened."

Edward was silent and Bella's heart twisted. She felt guilty that the words had even left her mouth. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. They meant well. No one could have expected this to happen."

"You don't have to apologize. I think it's good to be angry."

"Good?" Bella's voice was tired to her own ears.

"You aren't incorrect. If they hadn't pushed you." He paused. "If my site hadn't existed."

"It's no one's fault," she snapped.

Then suddenly, she laughed. It was a slightly maniacal laugh, completely devoid of mirth. "You know... I keep thinking. What if this had gone the other way? If M..." She closed her eyes, wheezing as she almost said his name. She couldn't … not without panicking. "What if he had been a good thing? A good guy? Then it would have been fate.

"It works both ways, have you ever considered that?" She rocked harder, as if she could outrun the anxiety that was building in her chest, making her breath come in gasps. "A million tiny things had to line up just perfectly. What if I wasn't single? What if I'd met a guy the normal way? Your website.. whatever lightbulb went off in your head that made you create this site, what if that moment never happened? People wax philosophical about fate when it comes to meeting the good ones. So was this my fate? And why? Why me?"

She heard him swallow and tried to concentrate on the noise. As it was despair was rising in her. She felt like she was drowning from the inside, water putting pressure on her stomach, her chest, her heart.

"I don't believe in fate. I can't." He finally said. "I can't believe there's some force out there dictating things like this. We make our own fate - or we can try. Sometimes... assholes just intervene. It's no one's fault but his."

Bella breathed in and out.

"But you can still be mad. At your friends... or at me. For this stupid idea of mine. I am."

Bella considered this. She wanted to tell him again it wasn't his fault, but right then, she couldn't say the words.

Right then, she wanted to blame everyone.

She wanted someone to be angry at.

And she was... so angry. She was angry at him for being in her life and angry that she might be destroying the only comfort nighttime afforded her. She was angry at everyone for keeping the secret of who Alice was and angry at her friends for letting her find out when she wasn't ready. She wasn't ready to give up this connection.

She was pissed the hell off that she couldn't sleep on her own. There was no peace in her life. None.

"Are you blond?" she asked suddenly. Her voice was thoroughly irritated.

"I, um." She'd obviously taken him by surprise. "No. I'm not."

"What color are your eyes?" she fired off next. She saw Mike's ice blue eyes in her mind and whimpered before she could help it.

"Green."

She breathed a little easier. "Green?"

"Yeah."

There was silence as she tried to let this sink in, tried to make herself believe inviting this man into her home would be okay.

She didn't want him here in this tiny bit of sanctuary, and yet...

This man had too much power in her ife for her not to know him, not to see for herself who he was.

"Bella, you don't have to rush it. If you don't want me to come, it's fine," he said gently, as if he'd heard her thoughts.

"What the fuck is the difference? I'm never going to be ready."

Bella was sick of the word "ready". Alice wanted her to take a walk when she was _ready_. Her friends wanted her to consider therapy when she was _ready_. Her boss would give her another account to handle when she was _ready_.

Well, she wasn't fucking ready for any of it!

"Okay. How about this. We'll have a standing dinner reservation," Edward began. "I'll come and walk outside - where you can see me. We can even talk on the phone if you want. When you feel comfortable enough, you invite me up."

Bella considered this. "Conditioning," she muttered, rubbing her temple.

"It might help."

"Maybe." The vice-grip around her insides loosened just a little bit and Bella relaxed infinitesimally.

They lapsed into silence.

It was only after Edward started talking - his usual babble of nonsense - that Bella realized she'd just had an entire conversation.

* * *

**A/N: Rawr. So. We're doing a little window shopping next chapter.**

**Thanks to GinnyW, jfka06, and barburella. My docs are never a boring place, believe me.**

**How we doing, guys?**


	12. Face to Face

**A/N: All of your questions about Mike and E's family will eventually be answered. Trust.**

* * *

Alice was brushing her hair.

Renee used to do this for her when she was very little. Of course, as a result, there were numerous pictures of her as a small child with absurd hairdos.

Bella stared down at her hands.

When her parents died, there had been the usual array of people waiting to comfort her with platitudes. Daughter of a preacher, Angela had frequently reminded Bella that her parents were with her, watching and guiding her from heaven.

Watching her...

Charlie had kept his thoughts on religion quiet, and Renee had explored a new religion every month, it seemed. Bella had taken Angela's comments for exactly what they were: an attempt to console her. Faith just wasn't something Bella ever dwelled on.

But ever since this thing had happened to her, she'd occasionally wondered if Angela was right - her parents were watching.

If they'd seen...

"You've gone clammy on me," Alice said softly, cupping her cheek.

Bella batted her hand away, trying to stave off the anxiety attack, trying not to feel _his_hands on her.

Alice moved around her so she was in front of Bella and knelt so her presence didn't loom. "Tell me what you need," she said softly.

"Does your Mom still have panic attacks?" Bella blurted, needing a distraction more than anything else.

"Every once in awhile," Alice said calmly.

"Great," Bella muttered, though she appreciated the young woman's honesty.

"Honestly, Bella, by the time I was cognizant, I don't remember her as being traumatized at all." Her smile was sad. "It's only been the last few years that I've recognized certain things. She's a little clingier even than most parents. Drove me nuts when I was thirteen, but that's what moms are supposed to do when you're that age, right?"

Bella nodded. Her lungs were beginning to loosen slightly.

"I'm not going to tell you our lives have been without complication because of everything that happened, but I was never without love. She is a great Mom, and my dad is a great dad." She made a face. "And Edward is a pain in the ass, protective big brother."

The corner of Bella's mouth actually lifted. "So the protective thing isn't my imagination."

"No. That's just Edward. He tends to be very protective of anyone he cares about."

Bella frowned again, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. With a shake of her head, she tried to dismiss her anxiety about Edward and how much he seemed to care about her - a virtual stranger. She'd been over and over this point with herself, with her friends, and with Edward himself. She'd made the decision to trust him.

Now if only her psyche would get in line.

Going over the conversation in her head again, searching for another distraction, Bella picked out another interesting tidbit. "When you say your father..." she hedged uncomfortably.

For a second, Alice looked confused. "Oh!" she exclaimed when she figured out what Bella was asking. "The only man I will ever call my father is Carlisle Cullen."

It was obviously a touchy subject. Without emotion, Bella reflected that she never would have been so tactless in the past. Now, she couldn't seem to dredge up enough energy to care.

"I'm sorry," she said perfunctorily.

Alice took a deep breath. "No, it's okay. Some people just make nasty assumptions about my Dad. It hurts him a lot, so I get defensive sometimes. Mom decided to keep me and that was that. I was his daughter from the minute they found out about me."

Bella hummed, considering this. Personally, the mere thought of having her would-be-murderer's baby growing inside her left Bella's blood cold. She didn't think she would have been able to keep the baby if she'd gotten pregnant. Not only had Esme obviously kept Alice, but she and her husband had raised her, loved her, cherished her as a child deserved to be treated. It gave Bella some measure of hope. If Esme Cullen and her family could not only get past what had happened to her but raise the child created not out of love but of torment as one of their own, maybe there was reason to believe things could get better for her.

_**~0~**_

When Bella got ready for her date with Mike, she'd been a little nervous. First dates were always a little nerve wracking.

It struck her as monumentally unfair. Completely naive to just how dangerous an innocuous-looking blond man could be, Bella had only had a smattering of butterflies as she dressed and brushed out her hair. For Edward, who'd devoted nearly every night of the last few weeks to her comfort, Bella's stomach was twisting like a towel being wrung.

She sat by the window while Rosalie, Emmett, and Angela busied themselves in the kitchen. They were watching her, she knew, but her eyes were trained outside, watching each passing stranger. It was a little early, but she thought he might be the kind to be early.

There was someone leaning against the lamppost she'd told him to be at. This bothered her irrationally. He'd been there since she sat down fifteen minutes before.

Since she'd been staring at him for so long, it occurred to Bella the irritating stranger was quite handsome. In the fifteen minutes she'd been watching, he'd made an absolute disaster area of his hair. If she could still find things funny, it might have amused her. But as it was, he was standing in Edward's spot.

The stranger pulled out a cell phone, staring at it. He had done that several times, but as far as Bella could see, he hadn't interacted with the thing. Checking the time, maybe?

A thought occurred to Bella and she sat up straighter, feeling like an idiot.

This stranger wasn't in Edward's spot at all... he _was _Edward.

Instantly, Bella tried to match his looks to the rich voice on the other end of the phone. It wasn't a bad fit at all. She reached for her phone and dialed, biting into her bottom lip as her mouth went dry, the lump in her throat rising to its accustomed place.

Sure enough, the man outside seemed a little startled as he stared at his phone. He connected and brought it to his ear.

"Hello?"

Bella couldn't speak. Very suddenly, she was interacting not with some faceless stranger, but with the man who stood right across the street from where she was. True there were three stories and a street between them, but he was close.

The thrill of fear ran through her blood, spreading with every heartbeat.

Outside, he ran his hand through his hair again and rubbed the back of his neck. "Bella?"

Funny, when she bothered to imagine what he might be doing when she called, she always thought he might have actually been annoyed when she did this - called without speaking. Instead, though she couldn't be sure because of the distance, it looked like he was merely concerned.

"Do you want me to talk?" he asked.

She could hear the sound of the traffic outside. All the people.

It was difficult to breathe.

He looked up toward the building, and Bella shrank back. Though she was fairly certain he couldn't see her from here, she felt the need to hide anyway. His eyes, as he glanced up, didn't search though. It was as though he was merely focusing on the building.

"Do you want me to leave?" his voice was quiet, unassuming.

Bella looked at him again, trying to take deep, calming breaths.

Was he really so frightening? The idea of him was scary, that was true. As she watched, he began to pace a little, oblivious to the people on the sidewalk who passed him warily. His expression was intent, focused, his phone held to his ear with the entire palm of his right hand and his left hand clamped over his other ear to minimize the noise.

To concentrate on her.

She heard him exhale - the sound quiet. "I'll go. Don't worry."

Panic ripped through her again, but this time it wasn't fear. "N-no." The word came out of her unbidden.

Outside, Edward halted in his tracks.

Bella took a deep breath, wetting her lips. "Don't go," she said in a whisper. "Just... just hold on a second."

"Okay. I'm here," he said quietly.

Rosalie calling her name made Bella jump a little. Her friend put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't push yourself if you don't want to."

Bella felt a flash of annoyance.

Once upon a time, Rosalie was the type of friend who was always encouraging her. Take a chance, demand a raise, tell off that bitch who kept stealing her parking spot, ask that cute guy out on a date. Rosalie was a never give up, never settle type of person.

Now her advice was not to push.

Well, fuck that.

Swallowing hard past the lump in her throat, Bella forced her rising fear back. "Come inside," she said into the phone.

_**~0~**_

It was astounding how nervous Edward was. He tugged at his clothes - a simple shirt and jeans - and raked at his hair like a teenager going on a first date.

For as many first dates as Edward had been on, he'd never been this spastic. But then, with those other girls, he'd been indifferent as to whether or not they liked him. His attitude was prosaic - either the date would go well or it wouldn't, end of story.

Though he had no romantic feelings for Bella, Edward couldn't deny he wanted her to like him. It felt suspiciously like his heart might break a little.

Rolling his eyes at his own melodrama, Edward steeled himself and knocked on the door.

It was Emmett who answered. His features were tense, but he smiled and pulled Edward into a hug. "Hey man, good to see you," he said easily.

Edward nodded and similarly hugged Rosalie hello.

When he raised his head there were two other people edging into the foyer.

Edward's eyes automatically skipped over the black haired woman to look at Bella directly.

There was a fright in her eyes that was almost animalistic, like a wild animal about to bolt. But she was fighting it. He could see that in the slight flare of her nostrils and the tension in her jawline. She held the other woman's arm in a strong grip and visibly tried to hold his gaze.

Edward smiled tentatively.

She so noticeably more gaunt that she had been in the image he'd stared at for those days she was gone. The pallor of her skin was a little sickly. Still, despite the fact she was obviously nervous and visibly trembling, the corners of her lips tugged ever so slightly up in response to his smile.

Moving carefully, Edward offered his hand, hoping it was the right thing to do. Thus far, Bella didn't really have issues with touch, but then, she hadn't had occasion to touch many strangers. Still, he knew it was important to give her the option lest she feel singled out - different.

Glancing first at Bella, Angela stepped forward first, taking his hand and shaking with a small squeeze. "I'm Angela. It's really nice to meet you after all this time, Edward."

Edward smiled at the woman genuinely. "Likewise," he said warmly.

Taking a subtle breath, he turned to Bella, his hand out, palm up.

She stared at his fingers for a prolonged moment but then raised her hand, squeezing his quickly with the lightest of pressure. "H-hi." Her voice was thin but she looked right at him, holding his gaze and his hand for two long seconds before she let go again, stepping backward behind Angela a little.

Edward's heart seemed to grow just a bit and he couldn't help but smile at her.

"Ladies and gentles, the food is ready," Emmett said grandly, interrupting the moment before it could get more awkward than was already necessary.

They gathered around the table. Edward sat across and to the right of Bella. He did his best not to stare at her though he wanted to. Not in a creepy way but because he found himself drawn to the young woman.

She was so brave; Edward was in absolute amazement.

For the most part, she was withdrawn as everyone talked around her, but that wasn't unusual according to Rosalie and Emmett. She picked at her food, but she did eat. Occasionally, she looked up, paying attention to the conversation - a relatively new development - though she didn't contribute unless someone asked her a direct question.

Out of the corner of his eye, Edward thought he saw her steal a few glances in his direction.

About halfway through dinner, Edward rolled up his sleeve so he could reach for the rolls so as not to interrupt Angela.

It happened very quickly then.

Bella's hand darted out, wrapping around his wrist, keeping him from withdrawing. Her touch sent a shock up his arm, making Edward gasp. Everyone froze, conversation halting in an instant.

"I... I'm sorry," Bella stuttered, looking up at him with wide, startled eyes. "I wasn't thinking. I-"

"It's fine. You just surprised me is all," Edward said quickly, sitting back.

Bella was blushing furiously, but she wasn't panicking. She seemed more embarrassed than anything. "It's just your tattoo," she said, gesturing a little helplessly. "I thought it said..."

Resting his arm on the table, Edward rolled his sleeves up so she could see the words printed right above the table.

Her smile was small but absolutely genuine. "I have that tattoo."

Edward's eyebrows arched almost right off his face. "You're kidding."

It wasn't exactly a well known quote. It was a lyric from a song by Ani DiFranco: _I've got better things to do than survive_.

Bella nodded and sat back, pulling her feet up on the chair with her. She took off her sock - she hadn't been wearing shoes - and held her foot above the table. Sure enough, there was a line of text - that same line of text - along the side of her foot. "See, I-"

But in that instant, she seemed to realize what she was doing, what she'd done.

Her speech cut off in a wheeze and she froze.

"Bella?" Rosalie's voice was sharp as she called her name, putting down her fork to touch Bella's shoulder. When she did, Bella jerked sharply away, setting her feet back on the chair and putting her hands over her ears.

Calling her name, Angela also tried to go to her, help her.

"Get away!" Bella shouted at them, her breathing dangerously quick now. "Get the fuck away from me."

They backed off. Angela darted to the counter, retrieving a bottle of pills. "Honey," she said quietly, pleadingly. "I have your pills, okay? Do you think you can take them?"

"We're right here. You're going to be okay," Rosalie said.

Bella had huddled tighter on her chair, ducking down so her face was obscured by her arms and her bony knees. "Don't fucking touch me," she mumbled, the words only barely audible.

Without realizing it, Edward stood, desperate to go to her, to help her. He was yanked back by Emmett's iron grip around his arm. "Don't," the large man said flatly.

His expression was tight, sad.

It briefly occurred to Edward that maybe, just maybe, his voice might calm her. It worked when they were on the phone at night after all. But he found he couldn't have spoken even if he wanted to. His throat was too tight, his mouth too dry.

Edward had been present for so many of his mother's attacks and heard even more in his work on the hotlines. He'd even heard the beginning of Bella's anxiety attacks before.

This was different somehow – seeing it happen to her in person.

After another minute, Bella lifted her head just slightly. Her whole body was shaking in a way that made Edward's muscles ache just watching her. She sniffled and beckoned to Rosalie. The blond woman tilted her head down, listening for a moment, and when she straightened up again, Edward didn't need to know what Bella had said. Rosalie's look was enough.

Bella wanted him to leave.

Though it physically pained him, Edward did as she wished.

He drove for almost half an hour, not knowing what to feel. In his head, he was playing a slideshow of small images.

The way she held herself - her shoulders hunched as if it took quite a bit of effort not to fold in on herself constantly.

Her tiny, but genuine smile.

The haunted lines of her face - God, she was so heartbreakingly skinny, and she hadn't been big to begin with.

The way her eyes - dim to that point - sparked when she saw his tattoo.

She was wearing so many clothes, all of them oversized to cover as much of her as possible.

He wondered idly if that was what had caused her attack. She'd taken off an item of clothing in front of him.

But also, for a few seconds, she'd forgotten. She'd connected with him.

And then it had all gone to hell.

Edward's stomach twisted and revolted. He pulled over, barely getting his door open before he retched onto the street. In his head, those images played over and over. Her pain. Her bravery.

It sickened him that she should have to be so brave.

All at once, Edward was furious. Pulling his body back in his car, he punched his steering wheel. Then, he couldn't seem to stop. He beat the ever loving shit out of the steering wheel until the pain in his knuckles outranked the fury in his heart. He slumped over, breathing hard.

Crying.

Seeing her, seeing just how broken she still was, the knowledge of what had happened to her seemed to truly hit him. It was a crushing weight, knowing he'd played a part in it, however unwilling.

She was a beautiful person and Mike Newton had tried to destroy her, had succeeded, to a certain degree.

At that moment, the fact that such evil could exist, that anyone would want to hurt someone else the way Bella had been hurt, was more than Edward could stand. His mind wanted to reject this knowledge. It was so entirely nonsensical. Why?

But there was no answer to that question. At least, there was no answer that would ever make the things she'd gone through acceptable. There was no answer that would make it okay that she was in so much pain now.

Edward hadn't realized until that moment just how emotionally invested he was. There was a hole in his heart, raw around the edges, still bleeding. And as much as he hurt, if he could take her pain and wrap it up inside his own body, he would have done it in a fraction of a second.

It was agony being unable to help her, to be so totally impotent.

As his tears calmed slightly, Edward remembered Emmett's words from a few days ago. "_Who do you go to_?"

At the time, he'd dismissed Emmett's words. He was just the guy who babbled to Bella at night. He wanted to be her friend, but it wasn't the same. He didn't have first hand knowledge of the girl she'd been, the girl who - as he'd told Emmett - was gone now.

But he cared. He cared maybe too much about this woman, and seeing her like that had just about ripped his heart into pieces. He needed someone. He needed to vent, to make sense of the mess in his head.

Edward drove, desperate to get to his destination.

When he got to his parents' house, he sprinted up the steps, using his key to get in. "Mom? Dad?" he called.

They appeared, faces confused, meeting him in the entry hall. He all but fell into their arms, letting them hold him. He let them lead him to the living room and sat, trying to get a hold of his reeling thoughts. Words came out in a torrent, all tangled and twisted. They asked soft questions. But most of all, they offered some small measure of comfort.

Edward couldn't help but wonder if Bella had found even this much peace at all.

* * *

**A/N: Huge thanks to barburella and GinnyW.**

**Quick note. To those of you who donated to the PTB fundraiser I was a part of in the summer, you should have received the first two chapters of my E/B fic Ray of Light. Please! Let me know what you think.**

**The rest of you - How we doing, babes? I know it's slow going. **


	13. Whiplash

**A/N: Here we go, babes. *holds hand***

* * *

Bella had almost forgotten about her tattoo.

Before, it had been her favorite, her motto. People mistook the ability to survive for strength. True strength, to her reckoning, was living, dreaming - thriving.

Bella rotated her foot - clothed again - considering the words.

Surviving had been about all she was doing lately, and she was doing a piss poor job at that.

With a sigh, Bella looked at her phone. For once, her nervousness was not tinged around the edges with paranoia but with a more normal emotion: embarrassment. It was bad enough to freak out in front of her friends, but in front of Edward, it felt ten thousand times worse.

Some melodramatic part of her toyed with the idea of never calling him, telling Alice to go away so she wouldn't have to interact with either of them. But her motto leaned more toward picking herself up, dusting herself off, and trying again.

After all, some things were a lot easier to come back from than others.

Besides, the very thought of not talking to Edward had her missing him - his voice in the long loneliness of the night.

Picking up her phone, she dialed his familiar number. It took him longer than usual to answer - so long she wondered if he had finally sworn off her for good after she'd freaked out and sent him away.

"Hello?" When he did answer, he sounded groggy.

Bella bit her lip, a little horrified. "Did I wake you up?" That had never happened before.

"Um." He cleared his throat. His voice was so gravely. "I went to my parents' house. No computer here, you know. Nothing to do but sleep."

She was relieved to hear him joke though she felt bad for waking him. "I'll let you get back to sleep."

"No. That's okay," he said quickly. "I'm really glad you called, actually."

"Really?" she was a little incredulous.

"Yeah. I was afraid I'd done something wrong today."

"It wasn't you." Bella's eyes closed, her stomach clenched at the memory of the panic attack. "It was the stupid sock." There was a bitterness to her tone. "I wasn't thinking." Her breath shuddered.

"You can tell me if you want," Edward prompted gently.

Bella didn't know how much she needed to hear someone say that until it was said. Her friends were being as supportive as they could be, but they tended to shy away from any discussion about what happened to her. As much as she wished she could just forget, logically she understood that wasn't going to happen.

Somewhere inside her, Bella knew she needed to talk about it. Each individual hurt, each torment Mike had put her through was a weight on her heart, a festering wound on her soul. How often had she felt the weight would crush her, the disgust would consume her?

If someone would help her bear the weight...

She'd forced him to listen to her before and promised herself it wouldn't happen again. But he'd asked, given his permission, and that was a different story.

"H-he..." She gulped. "He took off everything except my socks. They were the last thing I had." Her breath shuddered. "When I took them off for you, I felt... naked." She'd felt vulnerable. She'd felt his hands on her, guiding her legs apart...

Bella shook her head hard, fighting to keep herself in the present moment. "I-I'm sorry I sent you away," she blurted. "I just couldn't take it. My friends were already annoying me. They mean well - they do - but they're always pushing those g'damn pills on me. They do calm me down, but I hate the way they make me feel weird."

"You don't have to apologize to me," he said gently but firmly. "Whatever you need, whatever makes you most comfortable, is what I want." He paused. "And I don't think you need to be afraid of letting the others know what's best for you either."

"They're just trying to help."

"Well, that's true. So you telling them how they can help you should be beneficial for everyone," he pointed out mildly.

The corners of Bella's lips turned up slightly. "You have a point," she said sheepishly.

They were both silent for a minute as Bella contemplated her next words. "Edward?"

"Yeah?"

She had to swallow her nervousness down. "If I wanted to meet you again, but alone this time, would you... be interested?"

On the other end of the line, Edward gasped, and Bella almost took it back. But he was quick to speak. "If you're okay with that, then I'm more than okay." He paused a second. "Are you sure that's okay with you?"

"Yeah, actually." Surprisingly, this decision was utterly painless. "I was really okay." She brightened somewhat, realizing the truth of her words.

"But that doesn't mean you have to push yourself." His voice was unassuming.

"I don't think I am pushing myself," she said honestly. "I think my friends made me more nervous than I had to be because they were expecting something to happen." She paused, biting her lip, wondering if she was saying too much, sounding foolish. "And I guess I'm used to interacting with you one on one. I don't know..."

"No, I'm with you. Of course I have no problem with that."

Bella almost didn't recognize the emotion that welled in her. She was... pleased.

Strange.

"Hey... um, do you think... can I ask you about your tattoo?" she asked before she could start over analyzing her feelings.

The word made her a little nervous. One of the other reasons she'd freaked out so badly was because Mike, in his loathing of tattoos, had burned her skin on the other two she had. He hadn't found the one on her foot because he'd never taken her sock off.

"Of course you can," Edward answered. "What did you want to know?"

"It's just such an obscure reference. Ani DiFranco is a chick power singer. I don't know a lot of guys who know her music, let alone have a tattoo of one of the lines."

"What can I tell you? I appreciate musicians who have a way with words." He chuckled. "And what makes you think I'm the kind of guy who doesn't appreciate girl power?" He was quiet for a moment, thoughtful. "Honestly, that whole song is just my anthem."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I take my tattoos very seriously. I figure if I'm going to mark my skin permanently, it should probably be something important."

"I feel the same way." Absently, Bella reached behind her, running her fingers over her shirt where her tattoo was.

She wondered what the scarred skin looked like.

"Do you have any other tattoos?" she said quickly before she could dwell.

"A few."

"Well, don't be shy."

Edward was quiet for a moment and it was then it struck Bella.

She was conversing like a normal person. She was teasing him like they'd known each other for years.

She bit her lower lip, blinking sporadically, trying to figure out how she felt about that.

Before she could, Edward answered. "One on each shoulder. One is my family crest, the other is 'Be the change you wish to see in the world', which, I'll have you know, is not actually a Ghandi quote."

"You like word tattoos," she surmised.

He hummed his agreement. "So do you have any other tattoos?"

Bella's heart twisted. "I... I really don't know."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"He burned me." To her own ears, her voice was far away. Bella felt removed from the situation, as if she were talking about someone else entirely. "He showed me. That was how his mother punished him. And that was how he punished me." She took a deep breath, the noise shuddering. "And he burned the tattoos on my back."

She heard Edward take a shaky breath. If she could feel anything in that moment, she might have felt bad. What right did she have to make other people suffer with this knowledge.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, his voice rough. "I didn't know."

Even though he couldn't see it, she shrugged.

"Edward?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think..." She swallowed. "Is there a way to see whose pictures showed up on his page. Besides mine, of course."

"Well, yes," he said slowly. "Do you mean you want to see?"

"I know that's probably illegal..."

"It's... not ethical," he hedged.

"Forget I said anything."

"No." He took a deep breath. "I'm just curious... why?"

She contemplated this. "I don't know, really. Maybe it will give some meaning to what happened. If it had to happen to me, at least that means it didn't happen to them," she said in a timorous tone.

Again, he was quiet for a time. "His profile is locked and under watch by the FBI," he said slowly. "Technically, I can get to a copy of that data, but only onsite. You'd have to come in to the office if you want to see it. I would offer to print out the information, but we could get in a lot of legal trouble for having it."

"But you can do it without getting into trouble at your office?" She shouldn't have even been asking, and somewhere inside her, she knew it. Still, now that she had the idea in her head, it was fast becoming a need. She _needed _to see these other women - these women who could have been her.

She would have begged.

"If it will help you, I'll do it," Edward promised.

_**~0~**_

Edward wasn't even remotely sure he was doing the right thing.

The fine line between comforting and enabling was tricky. It was too easy to want to give the survivor of a violent crime anything they wanted - everything they wanted. Hadn't they suffered enough?

Edward remembered very clearly the first time his father had upset his mother after the attack. Legitimately upset, not triggered. He might have forgotten to do the dishes. Edward had railed at him because how dare he? How dare he not do everything in his power to make Esme happy? She'd been hurt enough for an entire lifetime.

So Edward didn't know if he was thinking clearly, doing what Bella wanted.

What he did know was this: he and Bella were friends now. It had been two weeks since they met face to face. They'd seen each other a handful of times, but more important than that, their nighttime phone calls, more often than not, had an element of conversation to them now. Not always. Bella still lapsed - sometimes in the middle of a sentence. She still called sometimes completely unable to speak for the terrors that gripped her, but she was making progress.

And he was helping.

It had to be a positive that she was outside - well, in his car - of her own volition. True she was perched on the passenger seat, her hands over her ears, practicing the breathing exercise he'd taught her the first time she started to have an anxiety attack in front of him when they were alone.

Luckily, it was late, so it was doubtful they were going to run into any people. He'd picked her up from her garage and drove to BTN's employee parking would only have to pass a security guard to get to his office.

"How are you doing?" he asked softly when he pulled into his parking space.

She let out a shaky breath. "I'm okay." Her voice was small but steady enough. He walked quickly around to her side of the car, opening the door for her. She did look up, meeting his eye for a brief moment.

He could count the number of times she'd actually looked at him on both hands. Mostly, Bella looked down.

Edward turned away to hide a small smile. He was unreasonably happy when she did little things like that. He thought it would probably annoy her if she knew.

As they entered the building, he watched her surreptitiously as she glanced up from under her eyelashes, looking around. "Pretty classy, Cullen."

He smiled. The lobby looked more like a lounge from a club than a place of business. "I can't stand corporate America," he explained.

She looked up at him - again - amusement sparked in her eyes. It faded though when she heard the footfalls of someone else. Instantly, she ducked her head again and took a step closer to him, pulling up her hood as she did.

"Evening, Edward. Burning the midnight oil?"

Edward smiled at the security guard. "So to speak. How are you, Felix?"

The man tilted his head, looking at Bella who, as they got closer to him, was getting progressively nearer to Edward. It was almost as though she were shrinking. "Well, now. Don't be shy, little lady," Felix entreated, stepping forward, his hand out.

Bella made a startled little noise, turning her head into Edward's side. Automatically, he put his arm around her, holding her close while holding his other hand out toward Felix. "Don't touch her," he growled, his voice feral.

Felix arched his eyebrows looking both surprised and irritated. He held both of his hands up in a peacemaking gesture. "My mistake," he murmured.

Edward hurried past him to the elevators, Bella still tucked against him.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly, carefully rubbing her back.

Bella's breaths were little gasps, but she wasn't hyperventilating. "I'm sorry," she said in a tinny voice. "I-I-I know he's supposed to be here."

"Felix is an intimidating presence," Edward soothed. The man was as big, if not bigger, than Emmett and obviously couldn't have known better.

The elevator dinged. Edward waited for Bella to straighten, to let him go, but she didn't. She was still leaning into him, one hand up over her ear, the other clutching the back of his shirt.

Careful not to let go of her, Edward walked them inside his office. By the time they'd made it to his desk, her breathing was more normal, and Bella looked up. She blinked and then made a little noise that might have been a laugh, though it sounded strangled. "Wow."

"You're impressed by the depth of my geekitude," Edward surmised.

Bella was looking around his office, trying to take it all in. His office could have been a display at Comic-Con, it was so full of all things nerd. He was proud of it.

"It's um..." She trailed off and let him go, wandering over to his shelves. She ran her finger along the display of ships there - Serenity, The Millenium Falcon, the Enterprise. She looked up at his wall. "You actually have the correct The Truth is Out There poster," she murmured quietly, nodding at his X-Files poster. "The only ones I've ever seen have the wrong spaceship."

"That drove me crazy," he admitted.

"Yeah."

Still looking around the room, she wiped at her eyes and took a deep breath. After a moment, she turned to him. "Can we..."

"Oh. Yeah, of course." He pulled out his chair for her, noticing how she wrapped her arms defensively around her torso as she walked to him. He stepped to the side as soon as she was seated, having caught on quickly to the fact that people standing behind her unnerved her. "It's the icon marked B," he said quietly.

For a long minute, she just stared.

Then, pressing her lips together, she clicked on the icon.

Her face was blank for the longest time. She didn't move except for her finger on the scroll wheel as she looked at the faces of the other women.

Edward wondered what she was thinking. He had looked at the faces of those women so many times himself. He wondered if she was glad the eighteen year old was spared or the blond woman who had a little girl at home.

Abruptly, her face twisted. Her arm lashed out, and she swept everything off his desk. Edward jumped at the noise, his heart pounding, his eyes wide.

But Bella wasn't done.

With a scream that was so pained, so full of rage, it was hardly human, she stood, grabbing the wireless keyboard and hurling it across the room with such strength, the life sized Darth Vader stand up actually swayed when it was hit.

Still she didn't stop. She moved to the nearest shelf, throwing everything she could get her hands on one by one. Plastic parts, books - they were everywhere. And Edward was completely frozen, helpless to do anything but watch as she spun around the room like a Tasmanian devil, leaving a path of destruction in her wake.

It was the screams that had him so frozen. He'd never heard something that sounded so entirely anguished and livid at the same time.

Maybe a full minute passed before Edward could move. He staggered toward her, his arms out. "Bella..."

"Don't you fucking touch me!" she screeched. "I hate you. I fucking hate you! You and your fucking program telling him we had a special connection."

Each of her words left him breathless, gutted.

Her features turned into a snarl and she barrelled toward him, her fists clenched. It was amazing how dangerous she looked - her face red, the look in her eyes promising pain. Under other circumstances, he might have cringed away from her, but as it was, he knew he would withstand anything she threw at him. If she wanted to beat the hell out of him, he would stand still and take it.

But rather than hit him, she grabbed him by his shirt, shaking him. Hard.

And as she looked up at him all the fury drained from her. "Why?" she cried, her voice raw, hoarse from all her screaming. She gasped and slumped forward against him. "Why me? Out of all of them, why did he choose me?"

As the energy seemed to drain out of her body, Edward caught her in his arms. She laid her head on his chest, her erratic breaths quickly becoming inconsolable sobs.

Edward's own legs felt weak - too weak to hold himself, let alone the both of them - so he sunk down to his knees. She came with him, her hands clenched in fists in his shirt, her little body trembling so hard, his arms shook.

What could he do besides rock her there in the middle of the wreckage of his office?

"Why?" she asked again, her voice no more than a whisper.

Edward's throat was tight, his heart as shattered as his Serenity replica. He was trying not to cry, trying to be strong because she needed that - someone to be strong for her. "I'm sorry," was all he could say. He was. He was so, so sorry. He was sorry of his part in what had happened to her and sorry that people like Mike existed.

He wanted to tell her he would do anything, give anything, to make this better for her.

But all he could do was hold her as she cried out her torment. He held her and rocked her and reminded himself that he didn't deserve to feel as utterly broken as the girl in his arms.

"I'm sorry," he whispered over and over again against her hair. "I'm so sorry."

* * *

**A/N: Thank you to my girls for holding my hand.**

**So. How are we doing, babes?**


	14. The Morning After

**A/N: Short chapter is short. But Yeah.**

* * *

It was a long time before Bella was calm again. By then, Edward had managed to get them moved to the room's couch.

She was cradled on his lap, her head on his shoulder. She was vaguely aware that his neck was slick with her tears.

She remembered how often Mike held her on his lap and she stiffened, waiting for the panic to consume her. Edward's hands were soft on her back, rubbing lightly.

After a few moments, she realized she wasn't panicking. This was very different from being held by Mike. First, Mike had held her with her back against his chest, his legs hooked around hers so he could spread them apart, so his hands could wander where they pleased.

She shuddered.

Her legs were thrown over Edward's lap, and she was curled up with her side resting against his chest. Her hands were unrestrained, of course, currently holding fists of his shirt between her tense fingers.

And she felt warm in his arms. Not safe or secure but at least not chilled to the bone.

Slowly, she began to think, trying to reason out why she was sitting like this with him in the first place, trying to remember why she was crying, why her throat was sore, her body aching from being coiled so tight.

She remembered looking at the other women, seeing the selection Mike had been given.

The rage she felt was completely unfathomable. There was no reason, no rationale. As a decent human being, she wanted to feel glad these women would probably never know, would never be able to guess, that they'd been cast in this line up, that if whatever feature, quality, Mike was looking for was something they had, it could have been them.

It so easily could have been one of them.

But it wasn't. It was Bella.

All the terror, the torment, the impotent rage hit her all at once. What she had been through, what she'd been reduced to. Her laughable existence. What had happened to her made her feel filthy every minute of every day - used, worn.

Damaged. Forever damaged.

And it wasn't fair.

After everything she'd already been through, why should she be expected to hold it all inside her? The injustice. The agony.

She couldn't anymore. She needed something. Some physical outlet.

So she'd screamed and screamed because there were no words, none, or maybe too many than she could say all at once, to convey what she was feeling. And then she'd...

Oh.

With a gasp, Bella lifted her head, looking around.

"Oh, God." Her voice was scratchy - barely more than a whisper. "Oh, Edward."

She scrambled off his lap, sinking to the floor amidst a pile of parts, pieces, and collectables. "I'm so sorry." She'd totally decimated his office, destroyed his collections.

As she began to try to pick up the wreckage, Edward, with his usual slow, careful gait, came to kneel beside her. "Bella, stop. It's okay."

"It's not okay!" The outburst caused a fit of painful coughs, but she had no desire to be excused out of pity.

Her head ached as she returned to her task, trying to see if anything was salvageable. "Some of these things are priceless," she rasped.

"None of them are worth more than you," he responded softly.

Bella froze. His tone was so completely sincere. He really wasn't angry. She was probably more angry with herself - some of the items that lay in pieces pained her as a geek - than he was with her.

Slowly, she looked up at him. "I don't hate you," she whispered.

"I wouldn't blame you if you did, incidentally." His voice was as unassuming as ever.

Bella shook her head. "Well, I don't." She winced. "Oh, shit." She picked up a figurine still hanging out of the shredded box it had come in. It was a Star Wars action figure from the 70's that had doubtlessly been in mint condition until she got her hands on it. "This is worth a small fortune."

Edward's lips twitched, but he smoothed his features out quickly. "If I were you, I'd be much more concerned about the Falcon here," he said with mock gravity.

Confused, Bella looked at the ship he held. It didn't appear to be damaged at all. "What do you mean?"

He tapped the top. "The sonar dish is missing. It's the same thing Lando hit when he destroyed the second Death Star." He sighed heavily. "I'm afraid Han hasn't yet forgiven him, and it's been decades."

Bella smirked.

Edward got to his feet. "Now see this." He went to stand behind his now headless stand up of Darth Vader. "You decapitated a Dark Lord of the Sith. That's just plain impressive."

Before she realized what was happening, Bella giggled.

Edward's jaw dropped open and Bella's eyes went wide, her hands coming up to clap over her mouth out of pure shock.

He recovered first and cleared his throat. "So. Is it that you're a Trekkie?"

"What makes you say that?"

He nodded at the shelf. The Enterprise was the only ship that had made it out of the fray. "You saved the Enterprise and you obviously had a vendetta against Star Wars. That all reeks of Trekkie. Or Trekker. Or whatever. I always get them confused."

"I only like the latest one, actually," she confessed.

He grinned at her. "Me, too. I think they should rename it, though. Star Trek: Captain Kirk Gets Beaten Up Every Five Minutes."

Bella giggled again. She couldn't help it. It felt so strange to giggle that she felt absurdly guilty at first.

Watching her, Edward smiled, too. "That or Star Trek: Kirk and Spock Should Just Give Up the Pretense They're Not Hot For Each Other."

That did it. Bella laughed. A full laugh. One that hurt her throat and had her coughing in seconds, but she didn't mind. It felt so good to laugh. So good she continued to giggle between coughing fits.

Edward knelt beside her again, rubbing her back as she settled down.

"Come on," he said, helping her up carefully. "How about some ice cream? It'll feel better on your throat. We can hit a drive-thru."

Bella's lips twitched up. "I haven't had a Wendy's Frosty in ages," she said slowly. She didn't relish the thought of being out and about for longer than necessary, but Edward was right. The thought of something cold and delicious sliding down her throat was appealing.

Before they could get to the elevator, Bella paused. "But... who's gonna pick this up?"

"Pffft. I got people for that."

_**~0~**_

"What... in the ever loving fuck... happened here?"

Edward looked up from his task of trying to see what was salvageable from the wreckage of his office. He gave his friend and brother-in-law a sad smile. "Hurricane Bella."

Jasper's eyes bulged a little. He didn't say anything at first, just sat down to help him go through the broken bits and pieces. "What could you possibly have done to make her this pissed off?" he finally asked.

It took a minute for Edward to answer. He didn't know if he wanted to admit what he'd done... especially to his lawyer.

But Jasper spoke as his brother first. "That must have been very difficult for you to see and hear."

Edward studied his hands. "It wasn't," he said simply. "I'm more concerned with her though. I'm not sure it was the right thing to do."

"Well, you know better than I do there's no clear road map with this kind of shit," Jasper said sadly. "And you know I'm no psychologist, but... I don't know." He shrugged. "All things considered, I think it's a very good sign that she lashed out like that."

Edward looked at him, waiting for more.

"Stages of grief, right? Denial, then anger." He swept his arm around the room. "This is definitely anger."

Edward couldn't argue with that. He'd been hoping to hear from Rose or Emmett that she had some kind of outburst, something more than the tiny fits she had with him on the phone. This was exactly what he was looking for. It had just shaken him because he had to witness it first hand.

"And really... I think it's good she lashed out at you in particular," Jasper said, not unkindly.

"Why?"

"Think about it. For a girl who doesn't feel safe at all, you have to feel a certain amount of security to get angry with you." He grimaced. "There's no getting around the fact that you and I are men, Edward. Look at the way our bodies are built. We're made to be bigger, physically stronger than women. And of course, you and I would never think to try to use that for anything more than reaching an out of reach shelf or opening a tight jar, but that doesn't mean we couldn't use it for... Well. You know...

"So it doesn't matter how gentle you are with her. Some part of her has to know you could absolutely overpower her if you chose, and she wouldn't have a chance. Every woman is aware of that some degree, but Bella especially is hyper-aware now. So for her to not only let you close, but to lash out at you..." Jasper shook his head. "I think that's huge. She isn't afraid of your retaliation, and for anyone who has been through what she has, that's really incredible."

Edward thought this over, turning Jasper's words around in his mind. Finally, he smiled, feeling sad and tired. "You're right. Of course you're right." He rubbed his eyes. "I know these things. It's just a lot easier to understand when it's not you."

"I get that." Jasper paused, an indecisive look coming over his face. "Can I ask you a question you're not going to like?"

Instantaneously, Edward was on the defensive. He sat back on his haunches, staring at Jasper warily.

He had a feeling he knew what Jasper was going to ask. It was a question that had kept Edward up the rest of the night after he saw Bella home. She'd been so very tired. Somewhere between Wendy's and her apartment, she'd gotten so lethargic she leaned on him all the way into the living room.

After he'd lead her to the couch, he tried to step away, but she grabbed his hand, keeping him anchored for a moment after she laid down.

It struck him how much he liked her little hand wrapped around his.

"Thank you," she'd mumble-whispered, her voice still gravelly from her screaming fit. She squeezed his hand and blinked, falling asleep in almost an instant.

He'd stayed for much longer than he should, staring at her face, peaceful as she slept.

That she trusted him enough to sleep with him there was profound.

It was when he started thinking of excuses to stay - what if she had a nightmare - that he knew he had to leave. Quickly. She'd been exhausted, emotionally wrought, that was all. In the car, on the way to Wendy's, she'd already been zoning out. It would not be good for her to wake up and find him there.

So he'd left her phone within easy reach of her and let himself out, slipping her key back under the door. When she didn't call that night, he was glad she could sleep but missed her phone call all the same.

"Somebody probably should," he admitted gruffly, answering Jasper's question.

"You want to tell me?" Jasper prompted when Edward didn't speak on his own.

"No."

Jasper's cheek twitched. "Come on, man. You've spent every waking moment - and quite a few moments you were supposed to be asleep - for months either with this girl in some way or thinking of her. You've bent over backward for her. And now this?" He gestured at the mess. "Edward, I know you and all these toys. You love your fucking toys."

"They're collectables," Edward mumbled by rote.

"And you don't even look bothered," Jasper continued as if he hadn't spoken. He studied Edward for a moment. "You're really going to make me say it? Are you really going to make me ask? This goes beyond any responsibility you feel for what happened to her. This goes beyond friendship even and you know it."

His heart heavy with guilt, Edward studiously continued to look down at the pieces of broken Serenity he'd been trying to reassemble. "I think," he began slowly, "I'm in trouble."

* * *

**A/N: Uh-oh.**

**So much thanks to GinnyW and to jfka06 and Barburella for making my docs awesome. **

**Sooooooooo. Yeah. That happened.**


	15. Anger

**A/N: Hokay. Here we go. *hand hold***

* * *

One would think after destroying what was doubtlessly thousands of dollars worth of collectables, Bella would have learned her lesson about losing her temper.

It happened with increasing frequency, though never with as disastrous results. Her rage was kept to her tongue.

Angela was the first to fall victim to Bella's sharp tongue.

Most days, Bella had no problem with her friend's strong faith. It was part of who Angela was, and she loved her friend. It was just lately that her talk of God and his plans had begun to creep under Bella's skin.

In her heart of hearts, Bella understood her friends were struggling almost as much as she was to make sense of what had happened to her. They were doing their best to understand the person she was becoming, to accept there might be parts of her they missed that weren't ever coming back.

They all had their ways of coping. Angela's was her faith, and while that didn't bother Bella, she was getting more and more irritated with her little platitudes.

Bella fell asleep in the middle of the afternoon one day only to fall into nightmares. Angela was there when she woke, rubbing her back as she tried to stop shaking. "God only gives us what we're capable of handling," she murmured among other comforting words.

Anger snapped on like a fire in the pit of Bella's stomach. "Oh, that's just great," she muttered bitterly, her tone dripping sarcasm. "Is that why this happened to me? Because I could handle it? That's awesome."

She got up, throwing her shoulders back and ignoring the pain it caused from her still wonky right arm.

"Bella," Angela began softly. "I didn't mean-"

"No, you know what? Fuck your God, okay? Because if you're right about him, he's a fucked up piece of work. That's why that psychopath picked me? Because I could handle it? Because I could handle being tied up? Because I could handle him putting his hands all over me? He _raped _me, Angela. Over and over. He raped me, and when I didn't do everything he wanted, he really hurt me. And your God thought I deserved to go through that because I could handle it?!"

By the end of her little tirade, Bella was towering over her friend who was sitting on the couch, her face crumpled. "Bella..." she whimpered.

Bella had the urge to detail every last torment she'd been put through. She had no doubt Angela's fragile psyche would break just knowing those things. She had to stop herself, though mostly because she didn't know if she could stand saying them. That they were in her head, replaying in her nightmares, was more than she could withstand most days.

She clamped her hands over her ears, hating Angela's sniveling, hating the thoughts that inundated her mind. She had the urge, the same urge that had overtaken her in Edward's office, to destroy. Right then, her friend was handy, and the urge to make Angela suffer, to make her deal with even a little of what Bella was forced to carry around in her head day after day, was almost more than she could resist.

Before she knew it, Angela was sobbing and babbling, trying to explain. And Bella felt bad.

Another day, Rosalie was over and made grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch. Bella didn't notice what she was making until the smell hit her, and then she was back there, tied to the chair in his kitchen while he cooked for them, the smell of butter and bread filling the air. Before she could process a rational thought, she got up, grabbed the pan away from Rosalie and the stove and drowned the sandwiches in the sink, gasping for breath as she did so.

Her head was spinning as she tried to keep herself in the present. Rosalie was standing nearby, Bella's pills in her hand, murmuring to her. "It's okay, honey. It's okay."

"Stop. Calling. Me. That," Bella snarled, suddenly more furious than frightened. She grabbed the pills from Rosalie's hand and threw them across the room. "And stop fucking shoving these at me. I'll ask for them if I need them."

"Okay, honey. No problem."

Bella growled and shoved past her friend into the living room. Rosalie followed.

"Stop calling me stupid pet names!" Bella demanded, her voice raised a lot more than was necessary. "You know you never used to do that? It makes me feel like a fucking baby. Just cut it out. I'm still an adult, okay?" She started to pace, needing to get this terrible energy out of her somehow. "I don't need one of you fawning over me every second of the day. All of you think you know what's best for me. Well g'dammit, I can decide what lunch I want on my own. I can cook it, okay? I'm not a fucking invalid. I'm not so fucking useless."

Rosalie stared at her for a long moment before her eyebrows furrowed into something resembling a glare. "Did you ever stop to think I'm doing this for me?"

"Doing what for you? Driving me insane?" Bella demanded.

"No! All of this, the things we try to do for you. We try to look out for you now because we weren't then. If we had been, we would have gotten to you days sooner or it would never have happened at all!" Rose shouted back.

The moment the words were out in the open, Rosalie clapped her hands over her mouth, looking at Bella with wide eyes.

Bella slumped onto the couch, her head in her hands as she tried to calm down. In truth, those very thoughts had crossed her mind. If her friends had bothered to notice she was gone just a few days earlier, Edward would have started his national campaign sooner. Jessica Stanley would have contacted the FBI and they would have subsequently figured out that while Mike was born Michael James, his real father was Richard Newton - owner of Newton's Outfitter's in Forks and more importantly, owner of a remote little home outside of Seattle - a home he'd left to his illegitimate son when he died.

And if the FBI had gotten to her sooner, Mike might not have gotten the chance to rape her. She wouldn't have messed up, triggering the beginning of his ritual.

Rosalie sat down beside her, putting her arms around her. Together, they rocked and cried.

"It's not your fault, you know," Bella murmured when she had calmed somewhat. "And you were right."

"About what?"

"You know what the FBI agents told me last time I talked to them? The other girls... They think he targeted women who were isolated. No family. No real social life." She sniffled. "You told me I needed to get out more."

Rosalie's face crumpled all over again, and she put her head on Bella's shoulder, just hugging her.

Some days after that, Edward came over while Alice was still there. Bella was secretly eager to see them together. It was one thing for Alice to tell her Edward and the rest of the family treated her no different. It was quite another to see it in person.

But Alice was right. Despite their ten year age gap and despite where Alice came from, Edward was obviously a doting big brother. They had a beautiful relationship. As Bella watched, he teased her and she teased him right back. She was right about Edward being naturally protective. When Alice was telling them about a new client she'd picked up - single, male, in his thirties - Edward was concerned that she was visiting him in his home alone.

"I want you to text me when you go in and text me as soon as you're in the car away from his house," he said sternly.

Alice raised an eyebrow. "It's illegal to text and drive," she reminded him. "And dangerous."

"Pull over," Edward countered.

Alice rolled her eyes. "Yes, brother dear."

Tucking her under his arm, Edward kissed her forehead... and then mussed her hair while she squealed.

Bella was surprised at the wistful emotion that went through her. It was such an easy, innocent gesture. Edward had held her once, but that had taken a massive breakdown on her part.

Actually, no one touched her for the simple reason of displaying anymore. She understood why that was, but today, it ached.

"What are you thinking?" Edward asked when Alice left. His tone was gentle.

Bella sighed because she was thinking a lot of things. Too much. Part of her wished for the buzz, the numbness her mind existed in those first months after, but at the same time she actively pushed away the haze.

"I think...um." Her voice shook a little, and she rubbed her temples. "I need... I think I need to talk to someone."

He eyed her a moment, nodding slowly. "You think you _need_ to or you _want_to?"

Bella laughed, the sound a little shaky. "Want to..." she repeated. "I don't want to do it," she admitted, her voice small. "I want to forget." She closed her eyes, taking a shuddering breath.

"But you can't. There's no forgetting."

Swallowing a whimper, Bella shook her head slowly. "And I'm just so... angry all the time now. I want to say the words... but not only that, I want to... hurt people with the words." She clenched and unclenched her hands, letting out a long breath. "That's not right, is it?"

"There's no right or wrong. It's just how you feel." He took a deep breath. "But in general, yes I would say if you're ready to talk, there are more... healthy ways to get these things off your chest."

Bella gave a little scoff. He was being diplomatic.

"So what were you thinking?"

This was another thing Bella liked about Edward. Rather than tell her what she needed, he asked her what she wanted.

It was something Bella had given a lot of thought to. Therapy was the obvious answer, but she wasn't sure she was ready for that yet. She wasn't ready to have her actions and thoughts dissected. Wouldn't it just be trading her friends' amatuer opinions for that of a trained psychologist? And she knew enough about the process that she understood she might not work well with just anyone. What then? She would be stuck reliving the most horrendous days of her life over and over until she found someone who could actually help her.

The whole process made her feel overwhelmed and tired.

And angry.

She'd coped fine with every other trauma in her life, even losing her parents, but this asshole had destroyed her.

She thought she might fare better with a support group, but that plan made her nervous. If Mike had only raped her - just rape, what a concept - it might have been one thing. But he was a serial killer - an oddity. People across the nation were 'familiar' with her case, her face.

And they were curious. News outlets had offered her insane amounts of money for an interview.

There was no way she could melt into the background in a group. It was one of many reasons she was still petrified to venture outside in the daytime. What if somebody recognized her?

What if they thought she owed them something? Her story? Or even just the right to gawk at her - the one who had survived where others perished.

Bella shook her head, looking at Edward. "Actually. I was wondering if... I mean, you said your mother talked to groups..." she stumbled.

Edward could read her pretty well. "You want to talk to my mother?"

"I just..." Bella looked down, studying her hands. "I need to know, to see, things can be different." Her voice was hardly more than a whisper. "If you don't want-"

"No. I have no problem, of course," Edward said quickly. "And Mom... She won't have a problem with it at all."

Bella was quiet, both relieved and dreading it now that the thought was out there.

There was just some part of her who needed this badly - someone who knew. Because Bella could cry on Edward's shoulder, Rosalie's, Angela's, even Emmett's, but how could they understand what it was like?

How could they actually know what it was like to be rendered so utterly, totally helpless, completely unable to cast off his hands, to stop him from taking everything?

To be out of control of her own body.

She would still be at a loss to explain everything else - being held for so long, being tortured. Being subjected to his irrational world, and then when she broke the fragile web of lies he'd spun... knowing with dreadful certainty she was going to die and it would not be quick.

Thankfully, Esme couldn't know these things.

But she would understand without Bella having to explain the degradation - how she felt dirty and used. How she felt it was written on her skin - a filth that never wiped away.

Esme would know. And then Bella might be able to talk.

And maybe she could begin to try to deal with the maelstrom in her head.

Maybe Esme could tell her the secret of how she was supposed to live again.

_**~0~**_

Edward knew his mother's story as well as he knew his own.

Bella had surprised him - when did she not - by asking to see Esme at her house, when Carlisle was there no less. She said it seemed only fair that she should have someone there for her if Bella was going to ask her to talk about difficult things. Edward reminded her Esme did this kind of thing all the time, it was unlikely she would suffer a panic attack now, but Bella was insistent.

She was stubborn when she wanted to be.

She'd been nervous and jumpy on the drive over, her hoodie pulled tight around her face, her feet up on the passenger seat, her head resting on her knees as she tried to blur out the cars around them.

As difficult as it was to see her so scared, Edward knew this was part of the process. She was out in the middle of the day. Granted, they were going directly to his parents' house where there was a gate and a protected driveway, but it was a start.

She'd surprised him again when she got out of the car and clutched his hand. He'd been so shocked he looked at her.

"Sorry," she'd squeaked, letting go.

"No. It's okay. You just caught me off guard is all," he'd said quickly, extending his hand, palm up.

Smiling a tiny, hesitant smile, she slipped her hand in his.

He almost regretted it when they met Carlisle. She squeezed his hand so tight, she nearly had him sobbing on the floor. It was probably the blond hair. After a few minutes, hearing the inherent gentleness in Carlise's tone, she relaxed enough that Edward didn't fear he would have to get his fingers amputated.

When they were all sure Bella was comfortable enough with Esme, the women asked the men to take a walk. Edward was reluctant, but he gave in easily to Bella's wishes.

In his head, he heard his mother's voice telling her story.

Esme was in the middle of a project, something that had to get done for a client by the next day. Edward remembered being disappointed when she couldn't go out as they had planned. There was a play. Edward remembered hoping if his mother couldn't go, he didn't have to either.

But no such luck.

So as he and his father were at the play - which Edward enjoyed in spite of himself - Esme was at home working.

Her office was tucked in a corner of the house. She'd been working so steadily, she didn't notice when it got dark and hadn't turned any lights on save the one over her desk.

A noise drew her out of her concentration. She crept out into the hallway only to come face to face with a dark haired stranger.

She ran, or tried to. He caught her. Threw her down on the floor.

Despite her repeated offering to tell him where valuable things were, he seemed angry that she had the gall to be in her own house when he was trying to rob it.

He beat her senseless, raped her, and left her bound and gagged for her husband and young son to find.

No matter how many times Edward heard the story, it never got easier. Even now, though he couldn't hear what his mother was telling Bella, his throat was tight and his fists clenched with fury.

His father's hand on his shoulder made him jump. He'd almost forgotten Carlisle was there.

"You're taking it harder than usual today," Carlisle observed. He and Edward had often marveled at Esme's strength, that she could relate her story so calmly when it still had them ready to tear something apart.

Edward grimaced. "I'm worried for Bella."

"She'll be fine with your mother."

"I know," Edward said quickly, a little irritated for no good reason. "It's just a little too close," he said after another moment. "It's like regretting we went to the play all over again." He swallowed, staring forward out of over the lawn. "I hate that I had a part in them meeting."

"We've been over this, Edward," Carlisle said gently. "You know none of this is your fault. It's not your company's fault."

"Logically, I know that." For a minute, Edward was silent. "But I can't do it anymore."

"Do what?"

"What I do. My company. I can't do it anymore. All day long, all I think about is what kind of people are out there, and who I'm introducing to whom. Yes, I'm sure Mike Newton is the biggest monster, but there are millions of ways people can hurt each other. People have used BTN to scam others..." Edward stopped himself before he started to rant. His shoulders were bowed. "I just can't do it."

"What are you saying?" Carlisle's voice was tight, worried. "Are you thinking of shutting down?"

"No. No. Nothing like that." Edward took a deep breath. If it were only him, it would be a no-brainer, but a lot of people depended on BTN being around to make their living. "I won't shut it down, but... I think I will step down." He sighed. "I don't know. I have to talk to Ben and Jasper."

Carlisle was surprisingly quiet after that announcement.

Edward looked up, finding his father with a far away, thoughtful look on his face. "Aren't you going to talk me out of it? Tell me I'm insane?" Edward prompted.

Carlisle looked at him. "No." He tilted his head, his expression unassuming. "Edward... this girl. Bella... you..." He was obviously trying to choose his words carefully. "You care for her, don't you?"

Sucking in a sharp breath, Edward looked away. "Is it that obvious?"

"No. It's just... you remind me a lot of me. After what happened to your mother, it was very difficult for me to go back to work," Carlisle explained.

Edward tilted his head, looking back at his father. "Really?"

Carlisle nodded. "It seemed wrong for a long time. At the hospital, it was all business as usual, and how could it be? My world was changed, rocked. I felt like I needed to do something... more."

"You obviously dealt with it."

"Well, the hospital did give me a degree of happiness - being able to help people. I realized I was helping people like your mother. I had this relatively unique ability." Carlisle smiled sadly. "If you can call a medical degree a unique ability."

"It's more than a lot of people have," Edward allowed.

"Exactly. So I think I understand where you are. You can't see putting two people together the same as you used to," Carlisle surmised.

"Right."

Another moment of silence. "And Bella? What are you going to do about what you feel?"

Edward let out a long gust of air, hanging his head. "There's nothing to do," he muttered. "She needs a friend. I'm going to be her friend. Everything else is my own problem."

* * *

**A/N: So there's that.**

**Thank you to barburella and GinnyW.**

**How are we doing, folks?**


	16. Baby Steps

**Dedication: To tellingmelies who offered me bribes to give her more Lost Half and IGNORE ALL MY OTHER STORIES. *holds hands out* Waiting for my prize... *taps foot***

* * *

"How are you doing?"

Bella looked over at Edward, resting her head on her knees as he drove her back home. She considered his question. "I'm okay. It's just a lot to think about."

Her head was full and her heart heavy. Esme had been through so much.

_"I feel... silly complaining to you," Bella admitted. "All things considered he was... gentle... when he..."_

_Esme stopped her. "It is..." she chose her words carefully, "a very sad fact that when the word rape is discussed, what is on people's minds more often than not is what happened to me: a stranger in the dark, violence, screaming... _

_"But the truth is, the vast majority of sexual assaults are not like what happened to me. What ends up happening is you have a lot of women and men who believe they don't deserve to feel the way they feel. A lot of them don't feel as though they can call what happened to them rape. And conversely, many rapists don't understand what they've done because there was no fight."_

_She took both of Bella's hands in hers, looking her right in the eye. "It doesn't matter that he didn't hit you when he did it. He took something from you that wasn't his to take. Nothing you did invited it. Nothing you said caused it. He took away your choice, and he had no right. No right at all."_

_"I had a choice," Bella insisted, but there was no conviction to her tone. "I could have fought him."_

_"And died in the process?"_

_Bella bowed her head. "It was a choice."_

_"No, it wasn't," Esme said firmly. "This was not your fault, Bella," she said softly._

_Bella had no idea how much she needed to hear those words until someone said them._

"Your mother is incredible," she said to Edward. "She's a very strong woman."

Edward glanced at her for a moment before returning his eyes to the road. "So are you."

Bella scoffed.

"Just because you don't believe me, doesn't mean it isn't true," Edward said quietly.

**_~0~_**

Jasper grumbled. Ben sighed. Edward just waited for the inevitable fallout.

"This is a little over the top, isn't it?" Jasper asked finally.

"It's been months," Edward pointed out. "I've tried. You've seen that."

"It's true," Ben acquiesced. "You've been pretty miserable around here lately."

"Edward-" Jasper began, but Edward cut him off.

"You're not going to change my mind about this," he said flatly. "I'm stepping down from the company. The only discussion I'm open to is how and when."

He scrubbed the back of his neck with his palm a little restless. "I know it's probably best to go slow so the stockholders don't think this is in response to what happened with Bella."

"Even though it is," Jasper muttered.

Edward leveled a glare at his friend before he continued. "So first, Ben, I need to know this is okay with you. After all, the company would be yours."

Ben squirmed, looking nervous. "You know I'm more than capable with the details... but it does worry me. You're a naturally charismatic leader, Edward. All our people look up to you, and that goes a long way toward making a company successful."

"Well, that was what I wanted to talk to you about. I want to start shifting you more to the spotlight." Edward leaned forward across his desk. "Ben, you know how to do everything. You'll make a good CEO; you just need the practice. That's part of my plan. Slowly, you'll take over some of my more, er... vocal duties so that when I step down officially, the process will be seamless."

They continued to go over the logistics of the matter for the better part of the day. It was only when they were walking to their cars that Jasper started in on Edward again. "What are you going to do, Edward? Have you even thought of it?"

"Of course I've thought about it," Edward said, a little exasperated.

"And?"

"I haven't come to any conclusions, but as we've spoken about already, it will be some time before I can step away from the company completely." He ruffled his hair restlessly. "I really don't know. Something... else."

"Mmhmm."

"I don't know what your problem is," Edward groused.

"Just wondering if your Bella would appreciate you switching up your entire life for her," Jasper retorted.

"That's not what I'm doing, and she's not mine."

Jasper put up his hands in a peacemaking gesture. "I'm not trying to be an ass. I'm really just trying to figure out what you're doing... and why."

"What are you talking about?"

"I know how you feel about Bella-"

"This," Edward gestured around him, "has nothing to do with how I feel about her. You know my heart hasn't been in it since she was taken. That was well before I met her or even talked about her."

Jasper set his lips together tightly before speaking again. "Well, maybe that's a better question to ask."

"What's that?" Edward asked warily.

"Are you sure your feelings for her..." Jasper considered his words. "Are you sure it's not just... I don't know. Her vulnerability? You've been wrapped around her since before she was rescued. Are you sure it's not obsession?"

Edward bristled, but if he were being entirely honest, it was a question he'd asked himself more than once.

"I don't know what you want me to say." Edward leaned against the wall.

"It's just strange. I've never seen you this way about anyone." Jasper scoffed. "You don't even like people that much."

"She's... I admire her. I can't deny I admire her for how she's handled herself after everything she's been through. It's not fair because most people will never have to be that strong or brave, but I also can't help what I've seen." He began to pace. "But it's more than that. It's everything. It's the quote on her foot - the arch of her foot! I don't know why that's so intriguing. She has this... dark humor. Do you know she has so many of the same posters I have up in my office at home? And-"

"Whoa!" Jasper held his hands up again. "That... Yeah. I just had to be sure."

Edward rolled his eyes. "Getting back at me for me grilling you about your feelings for my sister?" he guessed. "She's my sister. I had to protect her."

"Yeah, well. That makes you my brother, idjit. I'm looking out to protect you." He gave a little laugh. "Lord knows you do your best to protect her on your own."

"Hmm. Not that I can."

"No. Not that you can," Jasper agreed. "I'm just worried about you. You're turning your life upside down for a woman who may never be able to return your feeling."

"Then I'll be no worse off than I was before I met her," Edward said quickly.

Jasper looked at him, arching an eyebrow. "You really believe that?"

Edward slumped and gave a huff of laughter. "No," he admitted. "It's... impossible. After I realized how I felt about her, I can't not be enamoured by her, of everything. I can't turn it off. It's driving me a little insane."

After a moment, Jasper clapped him on the shoulder. "It'll work out."

"You think?"

"I know it looks impossible now, but you never know. I mean, look at me." He chuckled. "I fell in love with my boss's sixteen year old sister. Talk about impossible."

Edward hummed noncommittally. "You're good for her. I know that now."

"And Bella, it seems, is good for you," Jasper mused.

"How's that?" Edward asked, not arguing but curious.

"The reason, what she went through, it... sucks. It sucks it had to happen this way. But all that aside, that a woman could do this to you." He shook his head. "Maybe it's a good thing in the long run. Your life could use a little shaking up."

"I'm not sure I agree with you," Edward said wryly. "But all the same. I suppose I'm not going anywhere one way or another, unless she orders me away."

**_~0~_**

Bella was pretending to work on her laptop, but she was really listening to the conversation in the kitchen.

Well, no. That wasn't a fair assessment. She was fading in and out, her thoughts running away from her in tangents.

It had only recently occurred to her, she wasn't at all sure what Alice was doing here.

The time had long passed since she needed a nurse. Her right arm was weak, and would remain so until she could wrap her head around going to regular physical therapy, but she wasn't helpless anymore. She could and did dress and bathe herself. There was no reason for Alice to continue coming professionally.

Bella's lips twisted.

As much as she screamed at her friends when their presence irritated her, Bella had to acknowledge she wasn't as independant as she wanted to think she was. She was rarely alone. Angela or Rosalie were there in the morning when she woke. Alice most afternoons. Rosalie, Emmett, and Angela visited in some combination most evenings. And Edward at night - even if it was just by phone.

Actually, Edward was entering into that equation more and more lately - always at her invitation.

But Alice was the only one who was being paid to be there.

Bella shook her head, concentrating again on the conversation.

"I told you," Alice was saying. "Didn't I tell you?"

"You did." Angela was giggling. "Oh, Ben is... amazing."

"Good kisser, right?"

Another giggle. "I'm not going to ask how you know that."

"Oh, I just know," Alice said vaguely.

Bella peered over her shoulder. Angela and Alice were sitting at the table, heads bent together. She was again distracted, this time by the way Alice tapped gently on Angela's shoulder.

Affectionate touches. Friendly touches.

She remembered holding Edward's hand when they went to his parents' house. True, she had grabbed him first, but then he'd offered his hand.

Tender touch. Friendly.

Their touch had been an expression of her anxiety, not something as easy and friendly as Angela and Alice or Edward and Alice before, but it was something. A start.

Bella was sick to death of everything being so difficult. She was sick of having to start over with everything. She closed her eyes, breathing, resisting the urge to throw something.

How many times had she stopped herself from having an absolute temper tantrum these last few weeks?

What had Esme said?

_"It's unbearably frustrating. Maddening. That one act, so few minutes, can destroy these tiny facets of your life." She shook her head sadly. "And how unfair it is. So few minutes, and it changes everything forever. _

_"It's a continuous assault, even when they're locked up, isn't it?" Esme's voice trembled, but she steadied herself. "My peace of mind was shattered. I was so far lost in my own head, I was useless as a mother to my little boy. The man who hurt me - he continuously robbed me of things I treasured. Moments with Edward. My intimacy with my husband. And the baby... Oh. My sweet, sweet Alice." Esme closed her eyes briefly. "It wasn't easy."_

_"This is the first time I've been outside in months during the day," Bella said after a moment, her voice dry. "Technically. I went to the doctor once, but I was drugged half out of my mind. I don't think it counts."_

_"It counts." Esme again touched her - brushing her hair back, a motherly touch._

_How much Bella needed a mother's touch. She closed her eyes, revelling briefly in the comfort._

_"Bella, I know it's frustrating. Maladies of the mind are always worse than everything else because you can't see them, but they are as real as any physical wound," Esme said softly, stroking her hair. "There's no shame in what you're feeling, what you might need, whatever that is. You didn't feel so frustrated that your arm needed time to heal, right?"_

_Bella only hummed, thinking wryly that her arm was also still unhealed. _

_"So these wounds need time and attention to heal, too. Don't be ashamed of the little steps. Just keep taking them." Esme smiled at her slightly. "Keep taking them, and one day he won't have this control over your life."_

"Alice?" Bella called.

"Yes, Bella?" Alice came immediately, Angela on her heels.

Bella swallowed once and again, closing her eyes. "I want to take a walk. Can we take a walk?"

They were very difficult words to say.

Angela looked nervous and surprised. Alice just smiled. "Sure, of course. Let me get your shoes."

Bella let her. She was busy trying to get the room to stop spinning, trying to wipe away the cold sweat that had broken out on her skin.

_**~0~**_

"I tried not to take my pills," Bella told Edward later. "But I couldn't not."

They were on her couch. Bella thought it was Alice who'd called him so she wouldn't have to be alone - Emmett and Rosalie were away, and Angela, more often than not, annoyed Bella on her worst nights. Edward was on one end, his feet drawn up, mirroring her pose. There was a whole couch cushion between them. They both balanced a bowl of ice cream on their knees, though Bella had only picked at hers.

"You did it. That was the important part," Edward said firmly.

Bella stirred her ice cream, reminding herself again of what Esme had said. These wounds needed time and baby steps were still steps.

She rubbed her eyes tiredly.

His socked feet crept into her view halfway across the couch cushion.

"That was the hardest part, you know. The first time," he said quietly.

Bella was distracted by his feet, the outline of his toes. She was considering his touch. His hand in hers.

She found herself a little fascinated.

It would take nothing to let their toes touch. They were both wearing socks. It was an innocent touch.

Her nerves were frayed, though, after she'd ventured outside today. Was it a good idea to push?

She crept her toes forward just an inch.

"Edward?" Her voice was a little higher pitched than she wanted it to be, but she was trying to distract herself.

"Yes?"

"You're very handsome," she blurted. She heard his sharp intake of breath an stumbled on. "I mean... You're handsome, rich, kind. I'm just curious. I would think you would have women, or men, whatever, coming out of your ears."

"Oh." He chuckled a little nervously. "Are you asking why I don't have a girlfriend?"

Not for the first time, Bella marveled briefly at herself. The loss of her tact was unexpected but perhaps the least painful of everything that had been destroyed. "I know it's a rude question."

"It's not rude. It's just conversation," Edward murmured.

Bella wondered briefly what the look on his face would be, but she was still focused on his toes.

He had such very large feet.

"The truth of the matter is, I've always been a bit of a loner." His voice was thoughtful. She almost looked up. "It's a matter of preference. I don't have patience for most people as friends let alone girlfriends.."

Bella laughed. She couldn't help it. "You have no patience? Edward, you're the patron of saint of patience."

"I said most people," Edward said plainly.

Never would Bella understand how Edward saw her. Especially in the early days of their acquaintance when she was just a voice on the phone who would alternately snap at him and breathe erratically.

She wanted to be the woman he saw.

Bella crept her toes forward another inch. Then another. She bit her lip, not breathing at all as she pressed her big toe lightly against his.

Blowing out a long, slow breath, Bella waited, gauging how she felt.

Not panicking. Not apprehensive.

It was such a simple touch. Friendly. Almost playful.

Bella's lips quirked. Slowly, she looked up.

Edward was studying her with the oddest expression on his face and a small, crooked smile.

"I don't tell you enough," Bella said quietly, shyly. "I'm really glad you have patience for me."

His smile gentled, and he wiggled his toe against hers. "Being your friend takes no patience at all."

* * *

**A/N: To my lovely girls, GinnyW, jfka06 (despite her wanting to turn EVERYTHING into a Jasper/Edward plot), and barburella.**

**And thanks so much to all of you. This is about to go over 2k reviews. Much heart. Your response to this story - to any of my stories - is sunshine on a cloudy day.**

**I guess that makes you all My Girl (s).**


	17. Sweet and Sour

**A/N: Oh, lovelies. *holds your hand***

* * *

It had been nearly seven months since her ordeal with Mike was over, and even Bella had to admit she was doing better.

Esme was right - the small steps added up.

Starting with Edward and the simple toe touch, Bella began regaining the small signs of physical affection that passed between people. She hadn't realized how seperate she was making herself, how she sat as far away from her friends, shied away so they would not accidentally brush up against her. She made a conscious effort to step closer, to get their attention by tapping their arms. Little by little, they began to return her small touches. Their movements were far from natural and very hesitant, but it was human contact.

Edward and his family proved the best at these small moments.

Esme was a godsend. She was a naturally maternal woman, and Bella hadn't realized how badly she needed a mother in the aftermath of what she'd been through. It was somewhat ironic, because she didn't think her own mother would have known what to do. But Esme's gentle affection - the way she smoothed her hair back, caressed her cheek, and gave her hugs - did wonders to soothe Bella's wounded spirit.

Bella began spending most Sundays at the Cullen house. They were easy to get along with. Jasper and Carlisle both made her a little nervous at first. It wasn't their fault. They were men, and blond, built strong and lean. Her psyche knew they could easily use their strength against her even if her logical mind understood they never would. They were both gentle souls, very much in love with their families and kinder than she deserved.

She watched Carlisle especially, saw for herself the adoration he had for both his wife and his daughter. There was no hesitation on his part at all to kiss and hug both of them.

There was so much love in those visits, it was like chicken soup for Bella's soul.

With everyone's support, Bella began to venture outside her home. First were the walks with Alice, with Rose and Emmett, with Edward. To date, she was still uncomfortable with so many strangers milling around, but her anxiety was lessening. She'd also begun to visit a physical therapist for her arm. Alice went with her.

Most recently, Esme had put her in touch with a therapist - her therapist. The personal recommendation was welcome, though Bella understood it might not be a good fit. It was still too early to tell if the woman could help her, but Bella was trying to improve her life; everyone assured her that was the most important part.

Actually, Bella was moving more and more toward something approaching normal. Or at least, it wasn't the hell her life had been for so long.

It could pass for a real life, or at least a reasonably priced knock off.

And though she knew her friends continued to come over every day - she wondered vaguely if they worked out a schedule between themselves - because she wasn't quite up to being alone yet, she did enjoy their company. She especially, she had to admit, enjoyed the evenings she spent with Edward.

It had irritated and saddened her when she heard his plan to step away from his company. She'd badgered him until he admitted his guilt, how much he hated his program had put her in the monster's path.

She'd told him he was ridiculous. It wasn't anyone's fault but Mike's. "If Only" was the most maddening game. If only Rosalie hadn't pestered her. If only Bella had listened to her instincts.

"Either way. I used to have pride in my work, and now I don't, I can't," Edward had said softly. "It's time to move on."

Because there was nothing else to say on the matter, Bella let it drop.

Selfishly, she did enjoy the increase in time she got. And she wasn't as guilty, keeping him up until all hours of the night.

One evening, as was their routine, they were sitting on opposite ends of the couch, their feet up together on the middle cushion. Bella liked that, with Edward, they were almost always touching. It made her feel more human. They would watch movies or just talk, their toes and feet brushing in an easy, playful way.

"Oh, shoot." Bella grumbled at the mess she'd made. She'd poured out quite a bit more lotion than she needed, and now her hands were a slick mess.

"Here. Let me help."

Bella was a little startled when he clasped her hands, taking some of the excess cream onto his fingers. As he rubbed her skin, he seemed entirely oblivious to the fact he was touching her. It was so natural. After everything, if her other friends touched her for any significant length of time, they were obviously very aware of what they were doing. They watched her, as if waiting for it all to go wrong.

And who could blame them? It was unpredictable - when their touch might trigger a flashback.

Edward looked up at her as he rubbed her hands, his fingers beginning to caress her wrists, climbing higher. "Am I bothering you?" he asked quietly, holding her gaze.

"No." Her voice shook, but she was surprised to find she wasn't lying.

"Are you sure?" He didn't let go, continuing to stroke the lotion from her hands.

"Yeah, I'm okay." In fact, Bella was more than okay. Not only was she not uncomfortable, but she had the strangest sensation of longing. Like she didn't want him to stop.

"You're a little tense." He shifted his grip, taking her right hand in both of his, beginning to rub his thumb across her palm, kneading. The cracks as he massaged her hand were audible. He smirked. "See?"

She sighed. "That feels really good," she murmured.

He smiled, rubbing the kinks out each of her fingers in turn. "You're still nervous about something," he said, not asking.

"Um." She was distracted, watching his hands work. "I guess I'm just waiting for you to say something."

"About?"

Bella looked up at him with a furtive expression, ducking her head a bit. It was so obvious to her. There was a reason her entire wardrobe, including her pajamas, consisted of long sleeved shirts, why she was constantly tugging at the sleeves. "They're so hideous." Her voice was barely a whisper. She bowed her head, feeling ugly. Maimed.

He paused, and Bella looked down studiously, sure that if she looked up, she would see the disgust she'd been expecting. "Bella," he said softly. "Are you talking about these?" The pads of his fingers brushed along the inside of her wrist.

Bella held her breath.

The scars around her wrists were the only visible marker of what she'd been through. They were, to Bella, very obvious - raised and pink, thick in some parts, thin at others. When she saw them, she remembered the sharp bite of the rope as it rubbed blood out from beneath her skin. She remembered the macabre look of the wounds that had gotten deeper as the days went by and they weren't allowed to heal. There were scars on her back, of course, where he'd burned her, a nick above her breast - over where her heart lay - but it was the wounds at her wrists that she had to see day after day.

"Bella, look at me," he entreated softly.

It took her a minute to summon the courage, but she did.

His expression wasn't disgusted at all but fierce and... something else. Something softer. He looked into her eyes as he spoke, his thumbs rubbing her scars. "There is nothing about you that's hideous," he said firmly. "Nothing at all."

Bella didn't know that she could believe his words, but she knew he believed what he was saying, and that made a big difference. She felt her lips turn up slightly and bowed her head again, this time because she felt shy. It was unreasonable to feel so pleased about such a relatively silly thing.

Edward took her left hand then, beginning to massage it as he had her right.

With a contented sigh, Bella closed her eyes, resting her head against the back of the couch, relaxing, letting the tension drain out of her hands at the very least.

"You know," Edward began slowly. "If you're comfortable enough, I can rub your shoulders."

Bella let her eyes open.

He was watching her, and his expression made her strangely breathless. It wasn't the same type of breathlessness as when her anxiety made it difficult to get air into her lungs. There was an odd thrill of excitement that went down her spine.

"If you're comfortable," he repeated.

Her mind felt a little hazy as she considered this, but again, the haze was different. With her free hand, she rubbed the back of her neck. Heart palpitations, the cloudiness of her mind and the quickness of her breath... it was like an anxiety attack without the anxiety.

She swallowed. "I'm comfortable with you," she murmured.

And good God, a shoulder rub sounded glorious.

His lips turned up, his smile pleased. Still looking her in the eye, he rolled up one of her sleeves, rubbing along her inner arm.

It occurred to Bella she should be nervous. This was more of her than anyone had seen - besides Alice who'd helped her bathe those first two months - since...

Well, it had been a long time.

But she wasn't nervous.

She watched him closely, staring without shame, as he massaged one arm up to her elbow and then the other. She watched the knit of his brow as he concentrated on his task, studied the way he pursed his lips. She watched his thumbs slide over her skin, undoing kinks in her muscles as he went.

She was almost hypnotized.

Her cell phone blaring made them both jump, and they shared a little chuckle as whatever bubble they'd just fallen into burst. Bella grabbed at the thing, a little wistful as he backed off to his corner of the couch. "Hello?"

_**~0~**_

Edward was not happy.

It had been such a good evening. Bella was comfortable and light, for the most part. Her demon had reared his ugly head momentarily, but _his_grip on Bella was definitely loosening. She'd shaken it off relatively easily.

But it wasn't to last, it seemed.

The phone call she'd gotten was from Agent Scarpinato and his partner. They were in the area and wanted to talk to Bella right away.

Edward found it all highly suspicious. Nothing good could come of this. Unless they wanted to deliver the news in person that Mike Newton had been violently and viciously beaten to death in prison, this was going to be a bad night for Bella.

That thought alone made him furious. It was bad enough when her demons were specters of the past she couldn't escape. These were supposed to be the good guys.

"Thank you for staying," Bella said, her voice oddly high pitched and thin. It absolutely killed him she was so pale, bone pale with nerves and staring straight forward with a blank expression.

He put his hand over hers on the couch, lightly at first, testing to see if she would pull away. When she didn't, he wrapped his fingers around hers and squeezed. She looked at him then, the blank look on her face turning apprehensive. "Where else am I going to go?" he asked rhetorically.

There was a knock on the door. Bella closed her eyes, pressing her lips together.

"I'll get the door, okay?"

She nodded without opening her eyes, and Edward reluctantly left her side to answer the door.

"Mr. Cullen," Agent Ricci greeted as they were ushered in the door. "I wasn't expecting to see you here."

Edward just nodded, leading Agent Scarpinato and Agent Ricci to where Bella was sitting in the living room. "Why don't you get right to the point," he suggested before they could start in on any inane small talk. He wanted them gone as soon as possible.

The agents took the hint and got right down to business.

"I'm not sure if you've been following the case at all," Scarpinato began in his calm, pleasant tone.

"Not too well," Bella admitted. Her voice trembled. Edward shifted, putting his arm about her shoulders. She leaned into him.

"Well, in a nutshell, this is what's going on. We've been able to link Newton to the murders of six other women in addition to his mother."

Edward balked. The last time he'd paid any attention to the news, it had been three murders.

"There's a missing piece," Agent Ricci joined in. "There were eight necklaces. Eight charms."

Bella began to shake in earnest. The agent trailed off as she turned her head into Edward's side, her breath spiked.

Helpless to do anything else, Edward held her. It was likely she was she was having some fairly horrific flashbacks at the mere mention of the necklaces.

Aro and Marcus believed these to be his trophies - the charm necklaces he'd given each of his victims. When they disappointed him - if Bella's ordeal was typical - he'd ripped the necklace from their neck, ripped their shirts open so he could cut them, a simple flesh wound above their hearts. He coated the charm in their blood.

The first step in his damning little ritual.

"I'm okay," Bella said, her voice timorous, barely discernable as she kept her face turned into Edward's side. "Please go on."

"As I said, we've discovered the identities of seven of the victims, yourself included," Scarpinato continued. "The blood on the last charm indicates she wasn't related to Newton, so it can't be his mother."

"What does any of this have to do with Bella?" Edward asked, his voice hard.

The two agents looked at him, but Ricci answered. "I'm so sorry, Miss Swan. I wish we didn't have to ask this of you." He sighed. "Newton has agreed to tell us the location and identity of the last victim, but he has a stipulation."

Edward's heart was hammering in his chest, his stomach twisting. Beside him, Bella's breath stuttered. She raised her head slowly. "Tell me," she whispered.

Both agents had the decency at least to look displeased about the news they had to deliver.

"He wants to talk to you," Ricci said finally.

Bella cried out softly, bowing her head and twisting her hands in Edward's shirt.

"Absolutely not," he growled. He knew he had no right to speak for her, but the very idea of Bella having to be in the same _vicinity _as that monster made his blood boil.

"Please understand," Agent Scarpinato continued. "If we hadn't exhausted every other option, we wouldn't be here. This may be the one chance we have to bring justice for all the young women this man has hurt. It may mean closure, peace, for a grieving family."

"At the sacrifice of Bella's peace?" Edward shook his head. "This is insanity."

"Edward," Bella said in a whisper. "They're just trying to do their job."

"Of course, the environment would be controlled," Ricci inserted. "He would not be able to touch you. He would have hand and ankle cuffs on at all times. And we would be in the room along with several armed guards."

Bella shuddered against Edward. She was breathing in little gasps, but she wasn't hyperventilating.

"They can be female guards, if that's best," Scarpinato said helpfully. "Ten minutes. that's all he's asked for."

"What guarantee do you have that he would give you what you want? Just his word?" Edward demanded.

The agents grimaced. "At this point, it's the only lead we have for the identity of the last woman," Scarpinato said, his voice an entreaty. "This is the last hole in the case. The quicker we can resolve it, the quicker we can move to trial, and then this will all be over. Wouldn't it be easier to gain some closure then?"

Edward glared at the man. It was an ignorant comment to make. He bit his tongue, though, knowing Bella was right. The agents were only doing their jobs.

"What does he want?" Bella asked in that high pitched tone that made Edward's heart ache. "What does he want from me?"

"He won't be specific about that," Ricci said with a frown. "When asked, he simply says, 'to talk.'"

They were all silent for a moment.

"Well," Agent Scarpinato stood. "Take a little while to think it over. I know it's a lot, and I wish very much we didn't have to ask it of you.

"We'll let ourselves out," Ricci said.

Concentrated as he was on Bella, Edward hardly even looked up as they walked away.

As soon as the door closed, Bella shifted surprising him by winding her arms around his neck and crawling so close to him, she was almost on his lap. He wound his arms around her, holding her tightly as she began to tremble.

"Why is he doing this?" Her voice was barely a breath. Edward almost thought he'd imagined the words seeing as he was thinking the exact same thing.

"You don't have to do it, Bella," Edward said fiercely.

She began to weep softly, her body shaking hard. Her tears were hot against his neck and the sound of her torment absolutely shattered Edward's heart.

He wrapped his arms around her, his hands stroking her back as he rocked them both.

* * *

**A/N: Poor girl can't catch a break.**

**Thank you to barburella, GinnyW, and jfka06 for their help with this chap.**

**Soooooo. What do you think?**


	18. Not A Good Day

**A/N: Okay kids. *hugs* all around.**

* * *

At her request, the agents had provided her with the names and pictures of the seven victims they'd already identified.

Karen James - Mike's mother and first victim. When she cost him the only girl he'd ever really, truly loved - Jessica Stanley, if Bella was reading the situation correctly - he'd snapped. He'd become the monster.

Lauren Mallory. Katie Marshall. Whitney Porter. Rachel Black. Tanya Winchester. Katrina Nichols.

She put their pictures all in a line and rearranged them over and over.

They'd all fucked up in some way. All of them.

But she'd fucked up, too.

Her picture should be with theirs. If the world was fair, equal, it would be.

In hindsight, her fuckup was even bigger than trying to escape when she had no time. She could have come back from that.

She could have told him she just wanted air.

Instead, when he caught her, she'd screamed, and yelled, and cursed him. She'd told him in no uncertain terms that he was fucked in the head and she didn't want him. She hated him. She'd scratched and writhed and kicked, trying to get away from him as he got madder and madder.

And when he pinned her head to the ground with his foot, when he bore down until she thought her skull might crack, she begged.

"Bella?"

Bella looked up, blinking.

She was the shell again - the robot with fleshy parts with her soul hovering somewhere overhead. She was dangling on that precipice, staring at the crags far below.

Staring out Mike's window at the trees in the wind.

"Bella?"

The real world came into focus. She wasn't tied to _his _bed. She was sitting at the kitchen table with all her friends around her. Rosalie. Angela. Emmett. Even Alice.

And Edward.

"You can't really be considering this." Rosalie sounded incredulous.

Bella looked down at the pictures again, moving them around listlessly.

"You don't owe anyone anything, Bella," Edward said quietly.

"Yes I do." Her voice was lifeless. "I owe it to all of them."

"They'll find the other girl." Angela's voice was shaking. She was crying. Crying for Bella.

They devolved into discussion. Emmett was pissed as hell. His voice was loudest, but Bella didn't hear any of them - not really.

"I'm doing it," Bella said, having not heard a single thing that was said in the last few minutes.

"You-" Emmett started to argue.

"What if it was me?" Bella blurted.

Her friends stared.

Drawing in a staccato breath, Bella looked up at them. "What if they'd never found me? What if you never knew. What if the days turned into weeks, and months, and years, and you never knew what happened to me?"

Emmett looked pale. "You got out."

"But I didn't deserve to. I fucked up. Just like every one of them, I fucked up." She wheezed when she took a breath and closed her eyes. The dam she'd built up, the only thing holding a maelstrom of emotions at bay, was cracking. For a handful of moments, she breathed deep, and when she spoke again, her voice was monotone. "One more day, and it would have been me. I would have been dead." Breath. "What if you had to wait? What if you never knew?"

She looked down again. "I have to do it."

"But then what?" Alice asked. "If you give a mouse a cookie, Bella. What if he demands something else? More time? What if he never tells the cops?"

Bella closed her eyes again, her body trembling. She couldn't think about being in the same room with him - not yet. "He gets his ten minutes," she said flatly. "I'll try once. Once. And if it doesn't work, then I'll be able to say I did everything I could."

"I don't like it," Emmett growled.

She laughed. She couldn't help it. It was a painful sound - lacking any inflection of humor.

"You can't go in alone. Surely they don't expect you to face him alone," Rosalie said.

Bella was staring forward by then, the fog wanted to take her. She couldn't handle the emotion. Not yet. She knew it would hit her soon, but not yet. She couldn't deal with it yet.

"One person," she said finally. She took a breath. "And I want it to be Edward."

They were all shocked. She saw Edward's body jolt as he stood against the wall.

"Bella-" Rosalie started to protest.

"Edward." She swallowed hard, still staring forward, not really looking at anything. "If you don't want to-"

"You know I'll do it," Edward said quietly. "That's not even a question. But is that what you really want?"

She knew her other friends were probably hurt. They were all trying to be there for her. They all cared. They all wanted to help. And she had her reasons, but mainly, more than anyone, he just calmed her. He was the only one whom she didn't feel she had to protect. And maybe that wasn't fair to anyone, but what about this situation was?

"It's what I want," she confirmed.

_**~0~**_

She saw her therapist before they went to the prison.

"The most important thing to remember is not to expect any kind of closure from your encounter. He will not say he's sorry. He will not be guilty."

This was why Bella was coming to like Dr. Zafrina Romero. She didn't believe in coddling her patients. She got right to the point, though she was not without compassion.

"From what you've told me in our sessions, I would hazard a guess this man is seriously delusional," Dr. Romero continued. "Best case scenario, he might be confused, thinking you're still his, still in a relationship."

Bella closed her eyes, feeling dizzy at the thought. "And the worst case scenario?" she asked, her voice deadpanned.

Dr. Romero hesitated. "He could be trying to fuck with your head. If he's doing this out of maliciousness, he will try to manipulate you. He will absolutely try to hurt you as much as he possibly can without touching you... which is-"

"A lot," Bella finished in a whisper.

Nodding, the doctor leaned forward, trying to look Bella in the eye. Bella was having a hard time focusing.

"It's very rare for a confrontation with your abuser to have any sort of therapeutic value."

"I'm not doing this for me." Bella's voice was raw.

"I know," Zafrina said quickly. "I would be remiss if I didn't warn you. This could set back your recovery. Possibly tremendously."

Bella had been holding a tissue. She looked down, finding she'd ripped it into tiny shreds during the course of conversation.

"I know," she said shakily.

_**~0~**_

Edward had no idea how he was going to get through the next few hours or so of his life.

The woman he loved was walking into her own personal hell, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do to stop it from happening. As it was, he wasn't sure yet how he was going to make it through the ten minutes he'd be in the same room as the monster without murdering him.

The FBI wasn't making it easy to resist temptation.

Due to all the personnel that had to be in the room, all the cameras and recorders, there would be no glass separating Bella and Mike. Edward vaguely wondered if the cops would be able to pull him off the man before he could deal a killing blow.

But then who would talk to Bella at night?

So somehow, he was going to have to survive watching Mike hurt her right in front of him, and he wouldn't even be able to kill him.

This wasn't going to be a good day.

For her part, Bella was, for lack of a better way of saying it, switched off. Her eyes were dead - that same dead look he remembered seeing on her when he first glimpsed her in the hospital.

The same dead look his mother had wandered around with for months after her attack.

He knew it was probably only temporary - how else could she be expected to deal with this, to walk right into hell - but it was setting him on edge. The monster had already succeeded in taking her away from him, from herself.

Bella was completely withdrawn, silent, the hour long drive to Shelton where the Washington Corrections Center was located. Not knowing what he could say - and really, he doubted she would actually hear him anyway - he debated with himself for a good half hour before he decided to take a risk.

He brushed his fingers down her arm to get her attention. She jumped and looked at his hand like she was trying to figure out what it was. He held his hand palm up, hand open.

Slowly, she put her hand in his.

He wondered if it helped her at all. It did give him some measure of comfort - to be able to hold her hand for the rest of the drive.

When they arrived at the prison, they only let go long enough to get out of the car. Then, she reached for him, clinging, squeezing hard.

The first few minutes inside were a blur. Marcus and Aro were there. There were procedures to follow and instructions to hear.

And then they were in the room, waiting for Mike to appear.

Bella was cutting the circulation off in his fingers, but Edward wasn't about to complain. Maybe it was the only thing that would keep him from punching Mike.

They wouldn't arrest him for a punch, would they?

Of course, Edward had seen Mike Newton's photo. They'd splashed the one he'd posted to the BTN website everywhere. Objectively, he was a nice looking guy - built slender but strong.

Seeing him in person - Edward was first struck by his size. He wasn't especially tall nor especially muscular. He was about average. But Edward couldn't help but see only how his body would dwarf Bella's, couldn't help help picturing him towering over her, using his strength against her.

At first, the man looked only at Bella. He had the nerve to smile which made Edward growl. Then, Mike's gaze turned toward him, took in Edward's glower and how close he sat to Bella. His ice blue eyes narrowed, and his smile fell.

_That's right, asshole. I don't have to tie her up to get her to touch me_.

Bella's grip had turned clammy, and when Edward chanced a glance at her, he could see her coloring - already sallow all day - was now a sickly grey hue.

He imagined corpses would have more color than she did right then.

The guards leading Mike shoved him down into his chair. His eyes flitted back and forth between Bella and Edward. He tilted his head, leveling a reprimanding stare at Bella. Edward's fury was loud in his ears. He wanted to rip the monster's eyes right out of his head.

"Bella," he said in that tone a parent might use when they'd just caught a child being naughty. "You want to explain to me what you're doing here with him?"

The room suddenly got noisy. Edward snarled a response that included the words 'psychotic asshole'. The agents were over to him in an instant, their hands on Edward's shoulders, restraining though he hadn't been about to pounce. Agent Scarpinato barked at Mike that he had his ten minutes, he shouldn't waste it. Agent Ricci reminded him he had to play nice unless he wanted this all to be over in-

Mike banged his shackled fists on the table, glaring at the other men. "If you all have to be here for my ten minutes, _my_ ten minutes, with _my _girl, won't you please shut the fuck up?!" he roared, not looking so friendly then.

"I. Am not. Yours."

Everyone in the room turned to stare at Bella.

Her tone was frighteningly robotic, but it was firm. Solid. And she was looking right at Mike, her expression blank but steady. She stood up straight. Proud.

Not for the first time, Edward was in awe.

Mike grimaced and sat back, looking a little defeated. "No, they got me here. Locked up. Away from you." He sighed and shook his head. When he looked up again, his eyes were pleading. "I know you're mad. But you have to understand, I was trying to do what was best for us - for you."

Jesus Christ. Insane prick.

Edward was incredulous. He was g'damned delusional.

Which was probably why his lawyer, sitting quietly in the corner, wasn't stopping Mike from saying these things on camera. Edward had always known the likelihood Mike's team would plead insanity was high.

"I had something special planned for us if we couldn't make it," Mike's voice was almost wistful. "We were gonna go together."

At that, Mike's lawyer did speak up. "Mr. Newton. Remember what we talked about."

Mike grimaced at the lawyer but nodded.

"Look. What do you want from me?" Bella's voice was still monotone, removed. "I'm here. Say what you want to say, and tell these people where that girl is."

Mike looked at her with a frown. "You always were so jealous of the others," he muttered.

Bella's hand went slack in his, and Edward had to grip tight to keep it from falling. He stroked her knuckles. His entire body was tense. He was so close to telling Mike he could go to hell and take the agents with him. He wanted to get Bella out of there.

"What do you want?" Bella repeated.

The monster's expression softened. "I just miss you, that's all." He looked down. "I just keep remembering how good it was with us."

Edward growled again. He couldn't help it. He clenched the hand that wasn't wrapped around Bella's into a fist. One of the agents pressed down on his shoulder.

Mike's eyes flicked briefly to Edward. "Does it bother you? Me and pretty Bella, we did have such a good time for a while. She fucking loved-"

This time, it was Bella who slapped her palm on the table. "You don't fucking talk to him!" she screamed.

Mike looked back at her, his eyes narrowing. "You never do learn, do you? You never learn about how rude it is to interrupt people."

Bella drew in a quick breath. "What do you want?"

"What do I want?" Mike scoffed. "You know, they tell me they're going to keep me locked up here for a long, long time. And for what? I did everything I could to make you happy. I made sure we had everything we needed out there. I took it slow. And you know why? It's because I love you. I love you, pretty Bella."

Edward felt like he was going to be violently ill. It was only one of the agent's squeezing his shoulder that kept him silent.

"Now, I know it's hard for you. I know those words are hard to say. But I thought, maybe, since they're taking me away from you for so long..." He looked up at her with wide, pleading eyes. "Maybe you could say it. Just once."

Bella swallowed a little whine at the back of her throat. She breathed shallowly. "That's what you want," she said in a whisper. She blew out a long breath.

When Bella spoke again, her voice was different, gentle. She leaned in slightly across the table. "Mike? I want to tell you, but you're right. It's hard for me."

_What the fuck? _Edward's mind boggled, trying to figure out what was going on.

"But I want you to be honest with me, if you want me to say it. I promise I'm not jealous. I just want to know about you - all of you. And that girl is part of your past. Tell us... Tell me her name."

_Jesus Christ. _She was playing him.

Mike blinked and nodded. "You're right. That's fair. That's fair." His gaze flicked to the agents standing behind Edward briefly. "Irina Ivanova." He looked back to Bella. "She was from Russia. On vacation, you know. I convinced her to stay. I thought she might be the one." He smiled gently. "But she wasn't. That was you."

"I know. Where did you live?"

"Oh. That was when I lived in Orange County, in California," Mike said with a smile, eager to please her, it seemed.

"Give these men an address, won't you? So I can see later where you've been?"

"I want to hear you say it, first."

Everything in Edward screamed no. He couldn't imagine what this was costing Bella.

But Bella only closed her eyes, breathed deep, and whispered. "I love you."

Mike smiled wide then. "I knew it. I always knew it."

Agent Scarpinato leaned across the table quietly, shoving a pad and pen in front of Mike. "The address. Your alias," he instructed.

Mike took the pen and obligingly gave them the information they needed. Then he looked eagerly up at Bella.

Bella's eyes were open, hard. "I have something to say to you."

"What is it, sweet girl?"

"I fucking hate you," Bella hissed. "Your touch, your fucking face, disgusts me. I'm not yours." Her voice was rising in volume, all the emotion flooding back into it as she spoke. "I was never yours. And I never will be. Never! And you know what else? You deserved every fucking thing your mother did to you. Every. One."

"You fucking bitch!" Mike snarled, standing and lunging at her.

He didn't get very far, of course, shackled as he was he couldn't have, but all the same, the guards were over him in heartbeat. Edward was on his feet, his arm wrapped around Bella's waist, pulling her to the room's door and out - away from the snarling, cursing monster behind them.

Bella's breath was coming hard and fast as they stumbled away from the room.

"Miss Swan, I don't know how we could ever thank you enough," Agent Scarpinato began, reaching for her hand.

Bella flinched backward violently.

"We're done here," Edward said flatly, leaving no room for argument. He needed to get Bella out of there. She was pale as death. He could feel her trembling and suspected she was on the verge of either breaking down or freaking out.

Who could blame her? That had to have been one of the most horrific events of his entire life, and he hadn't been tortured by the man.

Keeping her body tucked tight against his, he led her through the prison, back out to where the car was parked. He opened the passenger side door for her, and she sat immediately, pulling her legs up to her chest and resting her head on her knees. She began to rock.

"Bella?" Edward asked worriedly, not sure what she needed. What he wanted to do was pull her into his arms and hold her, but somehow, he figured that would be a horrible idea.

"I need you to do something for me without asking any questions," she said, her voice a wavering, barely there thing. She wasn't looking at him.

"O-Okay," Edward agreed uncertainly.

"Take me to Forks." There was no inflection in her tone at all. It was just a sigh of noise.

Edward's eyes went wide. That was the absolute last thing he'd expected to hear.

Of course he had questions. And Forks was a good three hour drive away.

But she was asking for a reason, and after what she'd just been through, Edward wasn't going to deny her anything.

So they drove.

Edward was nervous. He didn't understand what Bella was trying to do. He knew damn well Forks was where she'd been abducted from, and she hadn't been back there since. He was desperate to know what she was thinking, but he wouldn't go against her specific caveat to ask.

They were only about twenty minutes into the journey when she grabbed for her purse, beginning to rummage through it. Even a cursory glance showed she was shaking so badly, it was hard for her to wrap her hands around what she wanted. Pills, he saw. He reached over, gently taking the bottle from her hands, steering with his arms for a brief moment so he could open it for her.

"Thank you," she whispered.

It was the only thing she said the entire trip.

She did take his hand again, though, holding it over the shifter until she fell into an uneasy sleep. Every once in awhile, she whimpered or cried out, but when Edward stroked her hair or cheek, she seemed to settle.

Reluctantly, he woke her when they got to Forks. "I don't know where to go," he said softly.

She directed him with one word answers until they pulled up in front of a small two story house. There, she got out. Not knowing what was about to happen, Edward followed her, waiting for some sort of cue, some sign.

Slowly, step by careful step, Bella walked up the drive. In a shaking voice, she began to speak. She told him about how freaked out she was when she was leaving her only date with Mike. She'd been so unsettled and paranoid but dismissed what she felt.

Brushing her fingers along her car, still parked in the driveway, she told him how she texted Rosalie _before_she got in the house.

Then, Mike had appeared out of nowhere. She pointed off into the woods that fringed the house, remembering how he'd dragged her there, his hand clapped over her mouth as the drugs made her body sluggish.

"Bella..." he whispered. His heart was breaking. The feeling in the air was eerie. His skin was crawling because he could feel Mike's presence here – a powerful notion now that he'd seen the monster in person.

Something was going to happen. This was the calm before the storm. He just knew it.

Shaking her head, Bella went to the house. Her movements were robotic as she took her keys out of her purse. Her hands shook as she opened the door.

The house smelled stale, musky - dark and dusty.

For a long, pregnant two minutes, there was only the sound of their breaths coming and going. Edward's body was tensed, waiting for the inevitable, not knowing how her pain would manifest.

And she was suffering. He knew she was. He didn't care that the monster couldn't touch her, that afternoon, Mike had battered her right in front of all their eyes.

Delusional insanity.

And she'd had to play into his fucked up little world for thirteen days just to survive.

Suddenly, Bella screamed.

It was that same awful shriek of pure agony as when she'd destroyed his office, except this time, there was no anger. She didn't snarl or rave. This was every scream of terror she'd had to swallow to stay alive. It was her pain. It was the amplified version of the tears she'd cried quietly so Mike wouldn't know, wouldn't see what he was doing to her. It was the sound of her utter helplessness, having to allow these thing - horrible things - to happen to her, having to make her body, her will pliant to his demands.

She screamed in between gasping sobs that shook her frame. It was only seconds before she fell to her knees, entirely unable to stay upright. She would have sagged to the floor except Edward wrapped his arms around her from behind, holding her to his chest.

Holding her together as if he could keep her from falling to pieces.

Her body heaved in his arms as she continued to scream nonsensically. He was terrified. She had not acknowledged his presence or his arms around her. In fact, she slumped forward, bent over his arm with her head angled at the floor.

It was probably the most horrible, ugly, terrifying, heartbreaking minutes of Edward's entire life. He just kept his arms around her, his head resting against hers, cheek to cheek, ignoring that her shrieks were close to piercing his ears.

She screamed until she had no voice, until coughing fits interrupted the continuous sound that was unfathomable pain incarnate.

As she gasped for air, her breath wheezing, Edward carefully shifted them. He sat and drew his legs around her, pulling her back against his chest. She came willingly, letting him cradle her as her screams turned into sobs. He rocked her, his face pressed against the back of her head.

It was a long, long time before her sobs turned to whimpers. Long enough that Edward's legs fell asleep, though he couldn't bring himself to care about that.

And when there was only the silence of their combined sniffling - when he'd started crying, Edward couldn't say - she looked up. Her eyes were dull, but there was life at their core.

"I want to go skydiving." Her voice was a raspy, painful sounding whisper.

Edward blinked at her. "Right now?" he asked, totally taken off guard.

"No." She ducked her head to rest on his shoulder. "Soon."

He rubbed her back. "Okay,' he agreed slowly. "Why?"

For a long while, she didn't answer, just snuggled up against him. "Because I'm alive," she said finally in that screamed sore ache of a voice. "Because he didn't kill me."

* * *

**A/N: Thank you to barburella, jessypt, jfka06, and GinnyW for helping me through this chap.**

**Sooooooo.**

**How are we doing kids?**


	19. Forks

**A/N: *hugs* to everyone. It's a hugs kind of day. And special hugs to tellingmelies. I was supposed to be writing slash but she gave me the virtual puppy dog eyes.**

* * *

Bella's head space was a chaotic mess, a waking nightmare landscape. She turned a corner in her mind only to have a monster attack. She retreated into the haze only to find it full of ghosts. There were too many thoughts to process, she couldn't concentrate, which was both a blessing and a curse.

She just never knew what was going to tumble out of her mouth next.

Having Edward with her when she saw Mike was a frustrating catch 22. On the one hand, she couldn't fathom facing the monster alone. The only thing that had kept her from collapsing in utter terror at the sight of him - he was so close, he could hurt her again - were Edward's fingers clasped tight around hers.

But on the other hand, how utterly filthy she felt.

When Mike spoke to her, she felt stripped bare again. Surely Edward could see exactly what a truly pathetic creature she'd been during those days, helpless to a madman's whims. That was why she lashed out when he tried to talk to Edward. Bad enough that he could see first hand that Bella could be - had been - bowed, conquered. She would not let the monster touch Edward - not even verbally.

And afterward, she had exactly enough strength left for one parting shot, piteous as it was.

When she glanced at Edward, when they were away from Mike's irrational snarling, her breath caught. She fully expected to see his disgust - how could he not be disgusted - but instead, he looked only concerned. There wasn't a hint of derision on his face.

She didn't understand. Somehow, she had to show him. He had to be made to see.

He couldn't keep looking at her like that - with concern but also with awe, like he was proud of her.

How many times had he told her she was strong?

Well, he was wrong. He had to see it. She had to show him. It was the right thing to do.

So she'd directed him to Forks - back to where it started.

Selfishly, she held his hand, positive, in her swirl of hectic thoughts, that when he truly saw her for who she was, he wouldn't want to touch her again. Didn't he get that the monster's hands had been on her? Didn't he see that she was tarnished, marred, filthy?

When they were there, she'd been brutally honest about her own idiocy.

From the very beginning, the first minute, she'd fucked up - oh the mistakes she'd made. The ignored instincts, the preemptive text. And then how she'd fought him at first, futilely, ending up tied to those shelves for the first two days without food or water rather than gaining his trust from the get go.

So many mistakes.

The other girls had paid for their mistakes with their lives. Their faces flashed in her mind.

Why had she lived when they were dead? Why hadn't she paid for her mistakes - she'd made so many. She should have died. She'd done nothing to save herself. The only reason she was alive was because the FBI agents had figured out where she was, because Jessica Stanley had come forward, because Edward Cullen had made sure Mike's picture appeared on every TV across the nation.

She was alive because they'd all saved her when the others had probably died screaming.

It hit her then. Hard. She imagined falling off the Empire State Building and hitting the ground so far below might have hurt less.

She didn't realize how much she'd been suppressing until it hit her all at once. Every time she couldn't scream, couldn't fight, couldn't stop him from taking everything, just everything. The days that had gone by like years.

It were as though everything she hadn't been allowed to feel assaulted her at once. As she stared at her house - dark and cold and silent - thinking about how all those months ago, she'd never made it inside, those days, the torments Mike had subjected her to, flashed before her eyes.

And then the knowledge.

She should have died. She should have died screaming. She should have died bloody and maimed like the others had. She knew the ritual - the death ritual after each girl had made her final mistake.

Burns, the brand of the knife.

And then, he'd ripped the clothes from her body. She was too utterly petrified to do much but give little yelps as he violently shredded the cloth, yanked down her pants, her underthings. Then he tied her - face down, spread eagle - to the bed.

If the FBI hadn't found her then, she knew what he would have done. She knew because Mike had told her. He'd crouched by the bed where she could see him. He had a cord in his hand - ripped from a lamp and doubled. "You just never learn, do you little Mikey," he had muttered in that maniacally high pitched voice.

He'd set the cord in front of her and pet her hair while she whimpered and cringed. "You think about that. You think about what you brought on yourself."

She remembered the horrible scars on his back and abruptly figured out how he'd gotten them.

"You think about it long and hard, and I'll be back."

He hadn't come back, of course. The FBI had gotten to him first.

Bella never even realized when she started screaming. It were as though her physical body had no form. She felt her legs give out, but not the impact of hitting the floor. Her throat burned and tickled painfully, but those things were all so secondary.

She was made of this roiling, smoke black emotion, this unfathomable feeling that was more than fear, more than rage, more than the frustration of her impotence. There were no words to explain what was inside her. There was no rationality.

So she screamed.

She screamed until her voice ran out, until her throat was rubbed raw. Her screaming had given way to coughing, her coughing to sobbing, until the iron grip of the monster loosened enough that her rationality returned. Her soul came back to her body.

The world was not equal or fair. Those other girls were dead. They'd died horrible deaths, and because they came before her, Bella was spared.

She'd been the last. How many times had Mike told her? It was why he'd been sloppy enough to leave his picture, his name. She was his last chance.

Bella was alive because those other girls had died. The guilt was crippling.

But g'dammit, how could she waste what they would never have?

She wanted to feel alive again.

Skydiving was just a random thought that popped into her head - one of the voices that cluttered her mind. After all, how terrifying could it be to jump out of a plane after what she'd already lived through?

Bella let Edward pull her up. She tried to stand, but her limbs refused to cooperate.

"Would it be all right if I carried you?" he asked softly.

Because she was too tired, too preoccupied with fighting off the demons that still loomed over her, Bella simply nodded. She didn't even have the energy left to wrap her arms around his neck as he carried her out of the house, out to the car.

Her thoughts spun around her, each of them sounding distant and distorted. Her head was pounding. Her throat was so sore. Bella was vaguely aware they were driving again, vaguely aware when they stopped in front of what appeared to be a little donut shop.

"If I go inside really quick, you can see me through the window," Edward said slowly. "Will you be okay in the car, or do you want to come in?"

She ended up staying in the car. He left the keys with her so she could sit and run her thumb over the panic button again and again. He was gone for just a few minutes, and he was right, she could see him through the window.

It helped.

When he came back, he put a hot cup in her hands. "Tea," he explained. "With honey. It will help your throat."

She sipped and winced a little. The warm liquid was soothing.

When they stopped again, Bella saw they were in front of the Olympic Suites Inn. Bella blinked, not quite understanding what was going on. She looked over at Edward questioningly.

"It's pretty late," he explained. "You look so tired. We can go back home, if you want, but I thought..."

Bella stared at the Inn, struggling to comprehend what he wanted and how she was supposed to answer. It was difficult to ferret out a linear thought process. Her mind was addled - thick. "Um," she stumbled, wondering just how thick the walls were. If she woke up screaming, would it wake people in the neighboring room? Should it make her nervous?

"With you?" she rasped. It was probably an awkward question, but it was the one that came out.

He frowned. "Whatever makes you comfortable. We can get two rooms or a room with two beds. Or we can go back to Seattle, of course. Whatever you want."

Bella looked around. It was late. It was dark. She hadn't even noticed.

And she was tired. She was dead on her feet. If Edward had let her, she would have curled up right on the dusty floor of her house. But a soft bed would be nice. Blankets would be better. She was cold again - ice right at the core of her bones.

"Same room." Her voice was a whisper. The idea made her nervous, but she did trust Edward. And honestly, she didn't want to be alone.

"Are you sure? We can go back to Seattle now."

"No. I'm tired." She had such a bad headache. "Don't you need reservations for this place?" Her throat tickled and her question ended in a coughing fit.

He smiled lightly and held up his phone. "I've been in touch with them via e-mail. There are rooms available tonight."

Bella nodded, accepting this. "Okay."

Her limbs worked a little better then, so she followed him inside, clutching his hand because strangers - even the smiling, waif of a girl working the desk - were just not Bella's thing today.

It took her minutes to realize the girl was calling her Mrs. Cullen. Of course. This was the kind of place sweethearts came to enjoy a weekend together. One would have thought the double beds would give it away.

Bella wondered if it should bother her, but it didn't, so she let that passing thought slip into the sea of unintelligible voices in her head.

The room was the size of a small apartment. Vaguely, Bella knew she should protest on Edward spending money on her again. It would bother her in the morning. Today, her steps were leaden. There was a weight on her shoulders and wrapped around her chest - squeezing like a boa constrictor slowly crushing its next meal to death. She just wanted to close her eyes.

So it was no surprise when Bella stumbled to the bedroom, falling on the nearest bed, hoping with her last thought the nightmares would leave her alone tonight.

It was a futile wish, but the first night terror that hit her wasn't as bad as it could have been. Bella woke with a start, confused at her surroundings. Her head throbbed so badly, opening her eyes to the quasi-darkness was painful. Her throat was irritated. She was disoriented.

She searched for her phone, knowing Edward would be on the other end of the line.

Then she remembered where she was and why. She looked around a little frantically. The lights in the bedroom were off, but she could see light coming in from the living area.

"Edward?" she tried to call, but her voice was too far gone from her screaming fit to get much volume.

Feeling slightly more panicked at the idea of being alone, Bella hurried to get out of bed. Someone had put the blankets from the room's other bed on her, she noted.

Someone. Edward.

Where was he?

Before she could get truly scared, she found him out in the living area. He was transferring a few things from a grocery bag to the refrigerator. He turned, his expression becoming concerned. Bella wondered with some small part of her mind what she looked like. The fear from her nightmare lingered, and it had to be written on her face.

"Hey," he said softly, crossing the room to her.

"You left," she accused, feeling slightly petulant about it.

"For just a few minutes. I wanted to get a little dinner in case you were hungry," he explained.

"I'm not hungry." She should have been. She hadn't eaten at all all day.

Edward just nodded, as if he'd figured that would be the case. "Then how about some ibuprofen," he offered.

Bella nodded and winced as the slight movement felt like a rather sharp, rather thick needle being poked directly into her brain.

"Do you want more tea or would you prefer something cold?" he asked softly.

"Cold." Cold sounded fabulous. Bella sat on the couch, drawing her legs up onto the seat. She heard the refrigerator open, and the next thing she knew, Edward was putting a large cup in one hand and extra strength Advil in the other.

It was a strawberry shake, Bella realized as she began to sip. A delicious strawberry shake. "Where did you get this?"

"There was a drive-in place."

"Sully's."

"Yeah." He settled onto the opposite end of the couch, not staring at her or trying to prompt conversation. He just kept her company.

Half out of it, Bella's thoughts wandered.

It took her minutes to place the emotion she felt, diluted as it was by her skittishness after a nightmare and the day she'd had. Amidst all the bad, or even the numbing sensation of the fog, there was a distinct point of something warmer, something good.

Sheltered.

She felt like she'd been caught out in a hurricane - cold, shivering, and frightened - and someone had pulled her inside, away from the bite of the rain and the sting of the wind. She was still sodden. She was still scared. But the place she was in was cozy. There was the promise that she would be dry and warm again.

It was Edward, she realized. He was her shelter, her haven from the storm.

Today - every day, really - he'd bent over backward for her. Everything she needed. Anything she needed. It was so unbearably kind, Bella suddenly wanted to cry. It was a level of kindness that was almost painful because why? She'd done nothing to deserve it - at least, not with Edward. He'd only ever known her as this hollowed out shell.

Why did he care? Why should he care?

"Why are you so good to me?" she asked in a whisper.

He tilted his head to look at her. "Why do you always ask me that?"

She didn't remember asking before, but that meant little. "It doesn't make sense. It's a lot of work for no reward."

"The point of being a good friend - a good person - isn't to get a reward. And besides, you're very wrong about that."

Curious, she glanced up, meeting his eyes. He was watching her with such a tender expression, Bella felt her chest tighten - in a not bad way.

"You are, without a doubt, one of the strongest, most amazing persons I have ever met," he said quietly and sincerely.

"I'm a mess," she whispered.

"That doesn't make you any less strong or less amazing," he returned instantly.

Bella looked down, staring at nothing. "H-he saw something that wasn't there, too. This made up version of me."

Edward's quick intake of breath startled her.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "Oh, God. I... You aren't like him. You're nothing like him."

"You have every right to be wary." His voice was so steady, understanding. "But I don't think you see yourself very clearly. I admire you, Bella, not because I've made up some version of you in my head, but because I see you working through this day by day. It's not easy. None of this is easy."

"No," she agreed.

"What you did today, Bella..."

Bella closed her eyes tight, waiting for him to say the words she thought had to be running through his head. Weak. Pathetic. She'd played his game just like he wanted, like always. Edward had seen the man who had conquered her with his own eyes.

"It was incredible."

Bella opened her eyes, staring at him.

"Do you have any idea..." He shook his head. "Not a lot of people would have been brave enough to face him. Period. I'm talking no one - whether they'd ever seen him before in their lives or not. But you did, and you were...so strong."

Bella had to look down. She couldn't take the proud look in his eyes. It didn't make any sense. He was looking at her like she was a hero.

"And you did it not for you, but for everyone else. Not a lot of people would do something so completely altruistic regardless of what it was, but to face down that psychotic bastard..."

Bella shuddered, and Edward trailed off. "Isn't that what you're doing?" she asked quickly. "Helping me for nothing. And you faced him too. Isn't that altruistic?"

"No. I do that because I..." He cut off with a sharp breath. "I... I care about you."

Bella was silent, trying to process the myriad of emotions and stray thoughts bouncing around in her head. She shook again, suddenly remembering when Mike demanded she tell him what he wanted to hear. Quickly, she pushed the memory away, but she felt like she was missing something. Something important.

Edward swallowed audibly. "Anyway. Long story short, I consider you a friend. And I've told you before, I don't have a lot of patience for most people. I don't have a lot of friends, because there aren't a lot of people I admire. You're a beautiful person, Bella. Inside and out. That's why I do what I do for you. Because it's the least I can do, it's the least any friend would do."

He got up then and retrieved another bag from the counter. "Here. I picked these up. They're nothing special, but I thought they might be better than sleeping in your clothes."

Taking the bag from him, Bella peered in, seeing an oversize shirt that said Forks on it and a soft pair of sweatpants. Tears sprung to her eyes, and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying.

There was so much ugliness in the world. She'd come face to face with it today again.

What she'd said to Mike, regardless of how much she deserved to lash out at him, was ugly.

But there was Edward, consistently reminding her that the world could be beautiful, too.

"Thank you," she murmured and ducked into the bathroom both to change and to hide her ridiculous tears from him.

Alone, she thought about everything he'd done for her and everything she'd cost him. She struggled with the way he saw her, but it wasn't the same as Mike's delusions. Mike had seen only what he wanted - a warped version of a reality that didn't exist. Edward saw her, truly saw her. He just had a different interpretation of the same things, seeing strength where she saw weakness.

It all made her very confused but...

She put her fingers to her lips, feeling the way her mouth curved upward just slightly.

If it was selfish to lean on him, to let him shelter her and comfort her... Well, maybe she would work on that. But for now, she didn't want to do without it, without him.

Bella changed, noticing it was a long sleeved shirt. Of course it was. He'd have noticed that she didn't wear t-shirts. That's just the way Edward was.

Bella slept fitfully that night, waking to Edward calling her name softly in the semi-darkness - they'd left the light on in the other room, the door open. She wept a little, shaking, trying to stave the panic and remind herself it wasn't real - it had been, but it wasn't anymore.

She watched as Edward scooted carefully to the very edge of his bed. Slowly, so she could see what he was doing, he extended his hand.

Part of Bella wanted to scramble out of her bed and into his, wanted him to wrap her in his strong arms where she might finally feel safe - protected from the demons that plagued her. But another part of her felt repulsive and wrong - so ugly, too ugly and impure to be touched.

Biting back a sob, Bella mirrored his movements, scooting to the very edge of her bed. Her hand trembled furiously as she reached out. At first, only their fingertips brushed, but the contact was enough. It put her back on the ground so she felt just a little steadier. After a minute of this, she crooked her fingers around his. He responded, taking her hand in a soft grip.

Bella breathed a little easier.

"Do you want me to talk?" he asked.

She could only nod, her throat still too constricted by the panic that was receding inch by inch.

Edward talked. He talked for a long time while she calmed.

Bella fell asleep to the sound of his voice, her hand still clasping his in the space between their beds.

* * *

**A/N: "Do you want me to sing to you? I'll sing all night if it will keep the bad dreams away." I always thought canon Edward could be the sweetest guy. Hearts.**

**You guys! You are all so good to me.**

**MWAH. Hugs and kisses and toe touches (if you're okay with toe touching - some of you aren't) of affection for you.**


	20. Faith

**A/N: Hello, lovelies. As always, you amaze me. Thank you so much for your continued support for my little tale.**

* * *

In the days following her visit with Mike, Bella was trying her hardest not to backslide.

The nightmares were back with a vengeance, allowing her very little rest. It left her with not a lot of energy to fight the haze that gathered in her mind again. She was back at that place where it was hard to concentrate, hard to string two thoughts together.

Now, though, Bella was slightly more equipped to fight it.

"Concentrate on little things, little accomplishments," Zafrina advised. "Even if it sounds ridiculous. If you're having trouble brushing your teeth, you make your goal one day to brush your teeth after every meal. Even if that's the only stride you make that day, feel good about your success because it is an accomplishment. You understand what I'm trying to say here?"

Bella was squeezing her little stress doll, watching its eyes bulge out. "Personal hygiene is an accomplishment right now," she muttered, bitter.

"Bella-"

"I know." She swallowed hard and closed her eyes. "One step at a time."

Since she managed to keep her teeth brushed, Bella focused on trying to remember how to be a good friend. It was a small enough task, she thought. Just a small gesture.

Ever since Bella had blown up at Angela, whenever they saw each other, it was obvious the other woman was walking on eggshells. It was bad enough everyone treated Bella with kid gloves. They spoke softly. They called her dear and sweetie and honey. If she could get Angela to stop editing words as they naturally came to her, that would be a step in the right direction.

As infuriating as it could be, Bella understood why Angela was so nervous. Her faith was such a big part of her, she didn't know how to speak without it - how anyone could possibly deal with this kind of trauma without leaning heavily on scripture.

On some level, Angela had to be thinking if Bella opened herself to spiritual healing, all would be well. God and his plans explained everything.

She was sure everyone, somewhere deep down, thought she should be doing something different. It seemed to be a natural human state: living in constant judgment of how other people lived their lives, fought their battles.

Extending an olive branch, Bella asked to go to Angela's apartment to spend a little quality time - as much quality time as she was capable of, considering she had trouble keeping her mind on conversation. It didn't seem to bother Angela, but then again, her friend had never needed much conversation to be comfortable.

"I'm going to make us some lunch," Angela said after a long lull in their stilted communication.

Bella nodded absently.

In the relative silence of the house, Bella's mind began to wander. It wasn't necessarily something she wanted. Lately, when it was quiet, Bella's head filled with Mike's words, his voice.

Distracting herself, Bella started to read the framed sayings and poems. She recognized most of them - standard fare.

Today, though, the last line of Footprints in the Sand caught her eye.

_My precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you._

It was a comforting thought - to believe that even when she was most alone, she really wasn't.

It was a load of shit. There'd been no one else there in that little house with Mike. Or if there had, whatever higher power had merely watched, letting one of his precious children torture her, just like it had stood by and let those other women die.

How was that comforting - trusting there was some reason?

But as she considered this, Bella thought of how the comfort Angela found in her faith, she found in her friends, in people in general.

Because despite Mike's attempt to rob her of her faith in humanity, in basic human kindness, she could still see it.

It was there in her friends rallying around her - their constant support over so many months. There she found her faith, her religion - in the hearts and arms of the people who loved her.

It was there when perfect strangers, Edward and then the rest of his family, took it upon themselves to help her when they owed her nothing.

A small, tender smile played at her lips as she considered the last line of the poem.

In one of the hardest moments of her life, Edward had literally carried her.

In that thought, Bella found peace in Angela's viewpoint. They had some common ground. No, Bella could not find comfort in the grand design of some higher power, but she could believe she was a part of a tapestry. She was sewn into the design of so many lives. Yes, she'd been alone with the monster, she'd been hurt so badly, but she was present in the hearts and minds of her friends, of Edward, of the agents who worked tirelessly to put together the clues fast enough.

They'd saved her.

They were still saving her, walking beside her.

Carrying her when she couldn't stand.

"Are you okay, honey?"

Bella stood and wrapped her surprised friend in her arms, clinging tightly and sniffling. "I'm fine. I just feel very lucky."

_**~0~**_

Emmett was angry with him again, Edward could tell. All throughout dinner, Edward could feel the other man's eyes on him, always with this slightly heated intensity about them.

Edward tried to ignore it.

For the most part, it wasn't difficult. His attention was always drawn to Bella.

This little get together was her idea, her way of showing her appreciation. She'd cooked dinner for all of them. She looked so tired and drawn, Edward's first urge was to tell her to sit down or at least let him help. But he could tell this meant a lot to her, so he kept quiet.

He did linger in the kitchen, his back against the counter, just chatting. Bella mostly listened, occasionally chiming in.

Bella's kitchen was small - not enough room for many more than two people. Edward was so lost in their small conversation, he jumped when Emmett stuck his head in the room. "Hey!" The larger man boomed.

Both Edward and Bella looked to him, startled.

Emmett's eyes lingered on Edward for a few seconds before he grinned. "You're monopolizing the host."

Clearing his throat, Edward nodded and let Rosalie take his place. He waited for Emmett to say something - it was clear he wanted to. Instead, he brightened, putting his arm around Edward's shoulders and steering him toward the living room. "Come on, bro. Let's find something on T.V ."

Dinner was delicious and easy - the whole atmosphere was surprisingly light. Bella sat next to Edward, her feet perched on her chair. Bella's appetite had been almost non-existent again since the ordeal with Mike, but she looked pleased that everyone was enjoying her meal and each other's company.

The small, pleased smile on her face, the way she sat with her knees tucked up to her chest underneath her oversized sweatshirt, her arms wrapped around her legs just watching everyone...

Edward kept glancing at her surreptitiously.

She was just so beautiful.

Emmett set his glass down on the table with particular force, staring at Edward pointedly.

Edward turned his attention back to his food.

When dinner was done, Bella refused to let anyone help with the dishes. The table was cleared and someone suggested a movie, so they all migrated to the living room.

Rather than plop down in the armchair, Bella wandered over to the sofa, sitting next to Edward. She seemed oblivious to the glances of the others.

It was noticeable. Since Mike, she'd reverted back to some of her earlier habits - shying away from touch. Everyone was giving her a wide berth - which was absolutely necessary.

Except that she kept seeking Edward out.

Her expression was absent, her moves automatic as she angled herself slightly toward him, touching her socked feet to his. He sincerely doubted she even knew she was doing it at this point. It was just the way they'd operated for some time now.

The guilty feeling that had been tugging at his consciousness all day came back tenfold now that they were touching, however innocently, out in the open.

He wasn't doing anything wrong or untoward, he reasoned with himself. It never would have occurred to him to stop her. These little touches - mere brushes - comforted her, and as for him...

Well.

Those tiny touches made Edward feel like he could fly, as ridiculous as that sometimes seemed to him. Sometimes, it was as though he lived for those little signs of affection from her. In the strange little world he existed in, they may as well have been kisses - sweet, chaste kisses.

He'd tried so hard not to feel the way he felt, to tell himself that there was nothing more to Bella's touches than the reassurance she was still capable of physical human contact. Still, despite himself, he couldn't shake that inherent happiness.

So when she did it in front of all her friends, Edward couldn't help but feel like his secret was laying out exposed.

He loved her. He was in love with her. He'd tried, but he couldn't help it.

But as Bella was oblivious, and no one said anything, Edward forced himself to relax. After only a few minutes, he responded to the flex of her foot against his.

It was such an oddly natural gesture for them now.

Midway through the movie, a break was called to refill popcorn and partake in bathroom breaks.

Edward wasn't entirely surprised when Emmett called his name, gesturing that he should join him out on the balcony.

The proverbial come to Jesus conversation, Edward could feel it. He ran his hand through his hair restlessly, unsure what to expect or what he would say if Emmett accused him of...

What was there for Emmett to accuse him of?

Taking a deep breath, Edward stepped out onto the patio.

The expression on Emmett's face was strangely drawn as he stared down at the street. Edward leaned on the rail and waited.

"She's scared of me again," Emmett muttered after a minute.

Edward paused, wondering if he was going to go on. When he didn't, Edward spoke. "It's natural. It-"

"I know it's natural," Emmett snapped. He took a deep breath in through his nose and out through his mouth. "It makes perfect sense. I understand what makes her afraid of me."

Another few seconds of silence before he went on. "What makes her afraid... it's everything I like about being a man. I like that I'm bigger than Rosalie, so big that when I put my arm around her and walk with her down the street, she feels safer because I'm with her." He paused, and when he spoke again, his tone was heavy with guilt. "I like that... when we're messing around, I can pin her beneath me and her entire body is covered by mine. Fucking dwarfed - Rosalie. Rosalie is about 20 feet tall. I like that I can pick her up and throw her over my shoulder like some fucking caveman." His voice was rough. "I don't just like all that. I love it. I love being a man, and I love showing it."

"Emmett..."

"So I get why I can't be in the kitchen with her - small space, enclosed. I get why I make her nervous, even though I've known her for years, and she knows damn well I'd rather die than hurt any woman let alone her."

He finally turned toward Edward. "My question is, why can you?"

Edward blinked. "What?"

"Why can you touch her? Why isn't she scared when you're with her in the kitchen?" He paused, a pained look crossed his face. "Why did she take you in there to meet that prick? Why could she stay in a hotel room, overnight, with you?"

Edward's throat felt tight. "What do you want me to say?"

When Emmett crossed his arms, he looked fierce. He turned to face Edward. "Are you in love with her?" Edward looked away quickly, out toward the street. "I've seen you with her. I know that look on your face. Just answer."

Swallowing hard, Edward turned back to him, looking him in the eye. "Yes."

Emmett's jaw went noticeably tense; his fingers flexed at his sides.

"But what is it you think I'm going to do about that, Emmett?" Edward asked. "Do you think I'd-"

"I know you're not going to do anything about it," Emmett interrupted him, staring out at the street again. His shoulders rose and fell. "It makes me... twitchy, but I was always going to feel... protective... the first time any guy showed an interest in her."

"I'm not going to do anything," Edward insisted again. "I wouldn't."

"Yeah. Dude. I said I know." Emmett glanced at him and shrugged a little. "I almost wish you would, though."

Edward balked. "What?"

Emmett gave a little laugh. "This whole thing... It's so unfair. The bitch of it is... you are honestly perfect for her."

No matter how many times, Edward replayed those words in his head, he was sure he must have heard wrong.

"Bella's always been a tough chick. She was fine on her own, but I always thought..." He looked uncomfortable. "It's a nice thing, you know? It's nice to be someone's most important person. It's nice to know that someone thinks about you before anything, everything else." He looked at Edward pointedly. "You already got that covered, I think."

Edward didn't argue, he couldn't.

"You're both big geeks. Computer nerds. You both..." Emmett laughed again. "I mean, not to get all sappy with you, but you're both so sweet. Sweet, good people."

Emmett clapped him on the shoulder. "She's not always going to be so scared," he said just before he went back inside, leaving Edward standing out on the balcony alone.

_**~0~**_

"Bella? Are you almost ready?" Rosalie called. "Emmett is about to start throwing a fit if we don't get back to this movie."

"I'll be right there. You can start it without me," Bella called.

She wasn't ready to face her friends yet, not after what she'd heard.

She was crouched against the wall below her open bedroom window, staring off into space, trying to process all the thoughts whirling crazily around her head. It was a little too much - mixing the typical chaos with this new information.

Two sentences seemed to be screaming louder than any others.

_"Are you in love with her?"_

_"Yes."_

What, just what, was she supposed to do with that information?

Her reaction was different by the second. She was terrified. She was horrified. She was resentful. She was furious. She was...

Elated.

And she was afraid of her elation, of the giddiness that occasionally rose above every other emotion.

She ran a hand through her hair nervously, not knowing whether she wanted to laugh or cry.

Trying not to think about the last man who said he was in love with her. It wasn't fair. She knew it wasn't even remotely fair to compare Edward to... him.

Bella's phone - her private phone - rang at that moment.

It distracted her alright. The vast majority of people who had that number were in her living room; they wouldn't be calling.

She closed her eyes, her heart beginning to speed. Panic gripped at her lungs because she had a feeling she knew who was on the other end. And they only ever wanted one thing from her.

In her rising panic, she called out for exactly what she needed. "Edward!"

He was there in an instant, the rest of her friends filing in after him. Bella thrust her phone at him before he could ask what was wrong. "I can't. I can't talk to them. I can't."

"Okay," Edward said quickly, taking the phone from her. "I got it."

He answered the phone. "Hello? Hello, Agent Scarpinato."

Bella closed her eyes, bringing her legs up tight to her chest and rocking. What did they want? What could they possibly want now?

"Maybe it's best if you tell me," Edward said tightly.

A moment later, Edward's audible gasp made Bella's eyes fly open. She looked up at him, her breath beginning to come in little wheezes.

"Yeah," Edward said into the phone. "I heard you." His voice was gruff. "No. Thank you for telling us... No, I understand. We're going to have to call you back, okay?" He hung up and stared at no one, obviously trying to steady his breath.

"What the hell is going on?" Emmett demanded, his voice loud enough to make Bella cringe.

Ignoring him, Edward slowly turned toward Bella and knelt in front of her. "It's over," he said softly.

She blinked, not comprehending. "W-what?"

He raised his hand slowly, reaching for her. Bella didn't flinch away from his touch. He cupped her cheek, his voice gentle. "They said... He's dead, Bella."

Bella stopped breathing altogether.

"He committed suicide in his cell this afternoon. He's dead."

* * *

**A/N: Quick note, my darlings. I am contributing a pasttake/futuretake from And Yet So Far to Fandom For Suicide Awareness. Even if you're not interested, a lot of fabulous authors are contributing to this very worthy cause that, as a formerly suicidal person, is dear to my heart. If you're interested, fandom4suicideawareness dot blogspot dot com**

**Thanks to barburella, jessypt, and ginnyw for their help this chapter.**

**Thoughts?**


	21. Yo Yo

**A/N: There is a distinct possibility this chapter will push me over 3k reviews for this little story. Either way, I want to take the time to tell you that your reviews mean a whole hell of a lot to me. I'm sorry I don't reply to all of you, but you make me smile even on the bad days. **

* * *

Emmett was still screening her mail.

Bella was well aware there were a few boxes full of letters - well wishes from people around the country, even around the world, who'd heard her story. Every once in awhile, Emmett would set a drawing or little craft someone - usually a child - had done for her out on the counter or pin it to the fridge.

More little reminders that humanity was, at its heart, benevolent.

And when she let her thoughts get that far, she could even see that in Mike's deranged mind, he'd been doing the right thing.

In so many ways, Mike was just as much of a victim as she was. He'd been hurt. Badly. It wasn't an excuse for what he'd done, but he'd been badly abused. He'd been made into a monster.

But there was no excuse for being monstrous, for hurting other people just because you'd been hurt.

At some point, Bella had googled herself and come up with, among other things, a video from the news. Rosalie and Emmett pleading for information on her behalf.

She didn't know Emmett could get so emotional, but his voice was heavy when he spoke. "This girl... She's one of the most gentle, beautiful people in the world. She wouldn't hurt anyone."

How little he knew...

Edward's gentle voice calling her name snapped Bella out of her damning thoughts. She looked up at him, vaguely confused. He hadn't been there before, had he?

"Emmett and Rosalie just left."

Ah, right. Her friends were back on continuous shifts. Ever since they'd heard of Mike's suicide almost a week previous, Bella had been dangerously close to catatonic, completely lost in her own head.

Shaking her head, Bella tried to concentrate on what Edward was saying.

"-received this from Russia." He put a letter in her hand. "I think you should read it."

Russia. Bella was confused.

It took a minute for the words on the envelope to sink in. The letter was from Sasha Ivanova.

Bella looked up, hoping Edward hadn't gone far. Of course, he hadn't. He was sitting on the opposite end of the couch, watching her with concern. Wordlessly, she reached her hand out, needing him.

There was a relief in his features as he scooted closer to her, taking her hand. The expression made Bella's heart twist.

What she felt for Edward - what he felt for her - was a tangle of thoughts she hadn't had the energy to unwind yet. In the meantime, though, she'd shied away from his touch. She wasn't sure if it was because he made her uncomfortable, or if it was because she thought it _should _make her wary.

Either way, he was still her shelter, and she had the feeling this letter could bring on a powerful storm.

"Is this?"

Luckily, Edward understood her very well and knew what she was asking. "Irina's mother," he confirmed.

"Have you read it?"

Edward shook his head, squeezing her hand comfortingly. "Emmett said it was all good things. He wouldn't have let it get to you if it was bad."

Bella stared at the thing for a good minute before she opened it with trembling fingers.

Sasha's English was broken, but the gist was clear.

Irina had been missing for eight years.

It was bittersweet, Sasha wrote. Of course, there was that quashing of the last shred of hope she had that she'd see her child again. But there was peace, too. Eight long years of imagining what Irina might be suffering. Eight years of helplessness.

It was maddening, the letter went on. There was no moving on with her life. She never would have moved on.

In the end, she thanked Bella profusely for her bravery, even going as far as to say if she were ever in Russia, she would love to meet one day.

Bella was shaking when she put the letter down. She put her hands over her eyes, helpless to stop the tears that wracked her then. Her emotions were overwhelming, assaulting her too many at a time, too much to process.

Guilt. Relief. Anger. Guilt. Horror. Sadness. Fear. Guilt.

Guilt.

That seemed like the sticking point. She felt sick with it.

"You're so strong, Bella. You did the right thing - for this woman, for everyone he hurt," Edward murmured. He'd put his arm around her, and Bella was leaning into him as she shook. But suddenly, his arms, his friendly... loving gesture felt wrong, like his touch could burn her - holy water to a demon.

She pushed him away and stood, beginning to pace.

"Bella?" Edward sat still on the couch though his body was tense. She knew him. He wouldn't move until she gave some indication of what she needed.

"I just... I can't take it. Everyone looks at me like I'm some do-gooder. I'm not. I'm not... good." She ran her hands through her hair. "I'm... bad."

"What are you talking about?"

"M-m..." Bella closed her eyes, trying to breathe through the panic his name always caused. "He was on suicide watch from the beginning." She laughed, the sound somewhat maniacal. "Because I was his last chance. He said that over and over. You heard him. He was planning to murder himself after-" She gasped, her voice running out. Her knees felt weak and she sunk to the floor, her hands over her face as she bent forward.

She heard when Edward approached her and didn't move, didn't stop him. Selfish as she was, she craved his comfort as much as she didn't deserve it.

He knelt at her side, his hand gentle on her back. "Why does any of that make you bad, Bella?"

"Because I knew." Her tone was a shaking, timorous thing. "I knew what it would do to him. I knew what would hurt him the most - the _most_."

Edward moved so he was in front of her. Bella flinched when she felt his fingers on her cheek. "Look at me." His words were a request, a plea. When she wouldn't bring her hands away from her face, he sighed but continued. "Do you think you killed him, Bella?"

She shook her head. "I know I did." She was crying again, dragging in a ragged breath. "I did it on purpose. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted him dead."

"You had every right-"

"I didn't! It doesn't matter what he did to me." She looked at him then, feeling more wretched than she had throughout this entire ordeal. "What makes me better than him? Someone hurt him and he hurt me. I wanted to see him suffer. I wanted him to die. I did kill him. I did."

He drew her into his arms, holding her tightly while she clutched at his shirt, wanting nothing more than to claw this awful, ugly feeling out of her chest. She felt vile.

Edward's breath was unsteady in her ear as he held her, heavy with his own emotion. His voice was husky when he spoke, like he was trying to hold himself together, fighting to be strong for her. "What I was going to say is you had every right to be angry. You had a right to lash out, Bella. You had a right to stand up to him."

Bella shook her head against his chest, but she didn't have the words left to argue.

"You didn't kill him." Edward's voice was fervent, stronger. "His life wasn't your responsibility. His mother killed him, if you need to blame someone, but not you."

He rocked her for a long moment while she cried, trying to reconcile his words with the guilt in her heart. She wanted more than anything to see herself the way Edward saw her - good, strong.

He loved her. How she hadn't recognized it before she'd heard him say the words last week she didn't know. It was obvious in his words, in his tone, in his actions. All week long, part of her resented the fact he could have those feelings for her. Why, when it made everything more complicated? She needed him - his tender touches, his voice on her phone at night, his presence in her life She needed something simple and pure. Knowing his secret meant she had to second guess what he wanted, what it all meant to him.

But while she was lost in a haze of too many thoughts, sometimes it occurred to her: if she could think about such frivolous things as love, she might want to be good enough for someone... for _Edward_to love.

She wanted to be more than this wreck she'd been for so long. How many more times could she expect him to cuddle her on the floor while she broke down?

This dark cloud she lived under... she just wanted to be free of it.

She wanted to be a normal woman attracted to a man.

And she wanted to believe it was normal for a man to be attracted to her.

When she lifted her head, Edward's expression was, as ever, gentle. He wiped away her tears as she calmed.

He was unbearably sweet. Painfully so.

And so beautiful. Inside and out.

She just wanted to...

What she thought she was doing, Bella would never know. In hindsight, her mind was hectic with so many emotions she just couldn't process, she never knew what emotion she acted with.

She just wanted.

And she kissed Edward.

It was a hard kiss, desperate. Edward's shocked yelp didn't stop her, nor did the fact his hands were frozen, his body stiff. There was this elated feeling welling in her, part what she felt when she heard him tell Emmett he loved her, part because she was touching him, kissing him, and it didn't feel bad; she was amazed she was capable.

Edward came alive. He turned his head slightly, enough to break the kiss. "Bella." He sounded breathless.

"This is what you want, isn't it? Ultimately?" She kissed him again, her hands on his cheeks.

He groaned, his lips beginning to respond to hers. Then he made a little noise, pulling back. Bella followed him, not letting him get away, her hands still framing his face.

Then he grabbed her by her wrists, his grip firm.

Bella flew back with a gasp, her eyes wide. Panic closed her throat, caught her chest in a vice grip. In her head was a myriad of images she didn't want. The rope cutting into her wrists - how many times had he tied and retied her wrists to the chair, to the shelves, to the bed?

"I'm sorry. Bella, I didn't mean-"

She shook her head hard, her hands clamped over her ears. She just needed to breathe. She needed him to keep his distance because she was on the verge of a full on attack but she could stop it. She was half in, half out, but if he touched her, she would go over the edge. If she had to feel guilt for hurting him again - _again_- she wouldn't have enough energy to fight this, to keep herself focused on her rational thoughts even as memories hit her likes lashes of a whip.

And because he was Edward, he understood what she needed. He stayed quiet, present in the room, lending his support.

Slowly, it got easier to breathe.

The memories lost some of their power to control her.

Slowly, she came back to the present. Slowly, she unwound her tense body. When she was able to move, she crawled over to the couch, leaning with her back against it. She tilted her head back, closing her eyes and breathing.

"I'm sorry." Her throat felt raw. "I had no right-"

"Bella. We don't have to talk about that right now."

She looked up at him, ashamed and wary.

Edward held up his hand. "I'm not saying we're going to ignore it." He swallowed hard, looking somewhat nervous. "I think we need to talk. It's just... maybe after a nap?"

Bella gave a little huff. "A nap sounds really good." She paused, knowing she didn't have a right to ask. "You'll stay, right?"

"Of course."

_**~0~**_

For the second time in their acquaintance, Bella fell asleep holding Edward's hand.

Edward sat back in his chair, absently running his thumb over her knuckles.

How on Earth had she found out?

More importantly, when they talked about what had happened, what was he going to say?

He had about an hour and a half to worry before she started to whimper in her sleep.

"What's the good of him being dead?" she grumbled when she was fully awake and calmed, holding his hand as they sat together on the couch. "He's still everywhere." She sniffled.

Edward didn't have an answer for that and knew she wasn't expecting one. He just squeezed her hand and waited.

When she was calm, the atmosphere got heavy, slightly awkward. Edward took some solace in the fact she didn't let go of his hand, but he knew it was time to address the elephant in the room.

As much as he could probably put this conversation off forever - he was terrified it would change their relationship for the worst - Edward figured the least he could do was own up to it.

"So what gave me away?"

Bella sighed. "I heard you talking to Emmett."

"Oh, jeez," Edward muttered, his heart speeding up. She knew everything then. "Bella... I wasn't going to... I mean, this doesn't change anything. Nothing has to change."

She was silent for a long moment, looking down at their hands. "I need you to answer one question for me, and I need you to think about it before you answer."

"Okay," he said slowly, very nervous. "I can do that."

"Do you think..." She swallowed, pressing her lips together hard for a moment before she could continue. "Is there a possibility you're... attracted to me because of what happened to me?"

Edward sucked in a sharp breath, taken aback by the question.

"I don't mean in some sick way," she hurried on, a blush tingeing her cheeks. "I mean, you obviously admire your mother. Do you think it's possible you admire me because of... all that?"

Edward huffed a little, playing with her thumbs. "I understand why you're asking me that, but I really don't have to think very long to give you an honest answer." He looked up again. "When I knew I was falling for you - falling hard - believe me, I thought about all of it. This, what I feel for you, is not something I take lightly. It's not something that's ever happened to me, so of course I've looked at this in ways you probably haven't even begun to imagine."

She looked up at him, her expression so vulnerable his heart ached.

"It's true that your strength is part of why I'm attracted to you." He smiled sadly when she shook her head, like the word 'strength' made her jumpy.

Turning toward her, he took both her hands in his. "Bella, look, I'm going to be completely honest with you. No one should have to be as strong as you've been. You _are_different to me than a lot of other women could be because of what you've been through."

She blinked, looking pained, so he hurried on. "That's not an insult at all. The fact of the matter is, there is a darkness to the world, an ugliness that most people sweep under the doormat and ignore because they have that luxury. You and I? We don't.

"Not that I'm comparing my experiences to what you've been through. It's just that I've seen the darkness you know. I can't unlearn that knowledge, that ugliness. I've had to live with it most of my life, and because of that, I'm different, too. So technically... yes." He looked her right in the eyes because she deserved his bravery. He had enough courage to get through this confession. "I love you for all you are, and you are the sum of your experiences. I love you because you're you."

For a long, tense handful of seconds, she stared at him, her eyes brimming with tears. She took several gasping breaths, as if she were trying not to cry. Edward bit the inside of his cheek, waiting for her response.

For the second time that evening, he was totally blown away by her actions as she moved to straddle his lap.

"Bella-"

She covered his mouth with her hand. The look she gave him was almost humorously stern, a silent warning for him to be quiet.

When she lowered her hand, she leaned forward, and Edward held his breath, certain for a moment that she was going to kiss him again. Instead, she rested her forehead against his.

"I've had more time to think than I've wanted, and my thoughts get tangled sometimes... a lot," she began, her voice shaking but still strong - not thin like it was when she was terrified. "I, um... I've thought about that day... with Mike."

Edward started to raise his hands, but she quickly pushed them back down, her expression apologetic. "Please, just... I need you to... keep these here."

He nodded and clenched his hands into fists at his side, wondering where this was going.

"The thing is, Edward... When he made me... Tell him I loved him," She swallowed. Her eyes had been closed but she opened them as she spoke her next words. "I didn't say those words to him. It wasn't him I was speaking to - that's why I closed my eyes."

Edward stared at her. His heart was in his throat. He wanted to hope. He wanted it more than anything in his entire life.

Bella cupped his face, gently this time. Her eyes were clear. Her movements were soft - not fast and hard as they had been earlier that evening. She tilted her head slightly so she was so close he could feel her breath on his face. "I said it to you."

And then she kissed him.

* * *

**A/N: Eeeep.**

**Eep?**

**As usual, thanks to ginnyw, Jessypt, barburella, and jfka06 for making my docs an awesome place to be.**

**So! ... Thoughts?**


	22. Good Thing?

**A/N: Oh, my darlings. Your reaction to last chapter was amazing. I love you all. For really.**

* * *

Edward was in a fantastic mood. He ran his fingertips over his upturned lips, remembering the light pressure of Bella's little kiss. He felt like humming. He might have been, actually.

"Hey, are you even listening to me?"

Spinning around in his chair, Edward cleared his throat, trying to return his mind to business. Jasper and Ben were staring at him. Jasper was pretending to look annoyed, but Edward saw the smile playing at his lips.

"I wasn't listening to you," Edward admitted. "But I am now. Promise."

Ben studied him for a moment as if trying to read if he were telling the truth. "We've narrowed your exit strategy down to five months. It's limited responsibility, since I need a little hands on experience." He looked nervous.

"You'll be fine, Ben. Okay, let's talk about my involvement..."

About an hour later, he was on his way to lunch when he heard quick footsteps behind him. As he expected, Jasper fell into step beside him.

"So," he began nonchalantly. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you got laid last night."

The corner of Edward's mouth lifted. "It's better than that."

Out of the corner of his eye, Edward saw Jasper give him a very dubious expression. "Better than sex?"

Edward stopped in the hallway, knowing he was grinning like an idiot and simply not caring. "She kissed me."

Jasper's eyebrows shot up but his shocked expression quickly faded to one of bemusement. "Possibly you and I have different definitions of better than sex."

"Who cares about sex?" Edward waved his hand. "She saw me, Jasper. She was there. With me. Not anywhere else. She was _there_." He leaned on the last word. "And she looked me right in the eyes when she told me she loved me." He smiled again; he couldn't not. "And then she kissed me."

As the gravity of his words set in again, Edward leaned against the wall, staring up at the lights. His chest felt heavy and light at the same time. "It's... more, you see?"

Jasper stared. "Wow."

"I know." Edward ruffled his hair sheepishly. "I sound like a little school girl."

"No," his best friend denied, shaking his head vehemently. "Well... yeah, but that's what you're supposed to sound like when you're in love." He pursed his lips.

"What?" Edward asked, eyeing Jasper suspiciously.

"I thought... well, from what you and Alice have said, Bella's been pretty bad off lately. Doesn't the... timing of this concern you?"

Edward stared down at his shoes, the heaviness beginning to edge out the part of him that wanted to fly. He sighed. The bitterness that crept in around the corners of his psyche was a domino effect. "Look, I'm not an idiot. It's complicated. Whatever happens from here, it's not going to be a joyride.

"It's just... the last eight months have been so... hard. I have no right to complain, I don't - not when it's millions of times worse for her. But it hasn't been easy watching her struggle. Everyday, I'm constantly checking and rechecking myself, wondering if I'm making the right choices with her, if what I'm doing is helping or hindering her progress.

"Just this once, for just today, right now, I don't want to think about it. A pretty girl kissed me and told me she loved me. That makes me really happy." He looked at his friend. "It was a sweet kiss, Jasper. That one kiss... that can sustain me for the rest of my life if I need it to, you know what I'm saying?"

Jasper held his hand up in a peacemaking gesture. "I get it. And I am happy for you. It's always nice when you know love isn't unrequited."

Edward actually didn't know that for sure. After all, Bella's kiss had been very chaste. And she could have been telling him she loved him like she loved Rosalie, or Emmett, or Angela: as a friend.

Or it all could have been part of her mind's desperate attempt to touch normalcy, to prove she could do something as commonplace as kiss a man without breaking down.

But as Edward said, he wasn't thinking of any of that.

Jasper started walking again and Edward followed. "Have you decided what you're going to be when you grow up?" his brother-in-law asked, changing the subject.

"I still don't have anything concrete," Edward admitted. "But I've been kicking around some possibilities..."

**~0~**

"Thanks for coming with me, Emmett."

Emmett glanced over at Bella and smiled before returning his eyes to the road. "It's cool, B. I've been wanting to meet the Cullen parentals for a while now."

"They're wonderful people."

"I guess they'd have to be for their kids to be so awesome, right?" Emmett spared her a grin.

Bella lapsed into silence, hugging her knees to her chest.

She was desperately unsure of what she was doing, but she needed to talk to someone. Maybe her therapist would have been a better option.

But really, it was Esme she wanted to talk to for so many reasons.

When they arrived, Bella grabbed Emmett's hand, stopping him before he strode to the door.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

She had so much she wanted to say to him. Bella was far from oblivious to how hard it had been for Emmett - for whom the term personal space held no meaning - not to touch her. The man was a hugger. A lot of how he expressed himself was physical, so the fact that his bulky presence unnerved her brought a tightness around his eyes that Bella hated.

In the early days of her recovery, Emmett - unused to keeping himself so still - had sent her into a panic accidentally more than once. So even when she'd gotten a little more comfortable with the idea of being alone with Emmett, he'd been more comfortable with Rosalie around to act as a buffer.

Bella didn't blame him. Her attacks were terrifying to all her friends, but for Emmett - who wouldn't be able to help her - it was just too much.

But Bella needed Emmett for this particular chore. She'd thought of asking Rosalie, but her friend was sure to have opinions if she figured out what Bella was here to do - and she would. Emmett was the type to do things without questioning, and if he figured out what Bella wanted... well, he already knew Edward was in love with her. She already knew he approved.

Looking him straight in the eye so he saw what she was doing - the last thing she needed was for him to start - Bella stretched up onto her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck. She tensed, waiting for his intimidating presence to overwhelm her, but it didn't. She stayed grounded. This was her friend and he loved her.

"Just... thank you, Emmett."

Slowly, he rested his hands on her back and then squeezed. "Anything you need, Bella," he said quietly.

Letting him go, Bella took a deep breath. "Okay. Let's do this."

He gave her a concerned look. "Are you sure you're okay? You look a little..." He shrugged.

If she looked scared, it was because she was, though it was a very different kind of fear than she'd been dealing with.

She tried to put that aside as she introduced the Cullens to Emmett and vice versa.

Lapsing into silence over lunch, Bella again found herself watching Carlisle and Esme, their easy interactions.

Before, it had given Bella hope, a general hope, that she could be normal again some day, that she would be able to smile easily, touch easily.

Now, though...

The day before, her head space had been chaotic, quickly jumping from one thought to the next without any sort of logic. Her thoughts came in shades of bad and worse... except the one bright thought, the hopeful words that were only a whisper - hardly legible.

Ever since she'd overheard Edward's confession to Emmett, an errant wish had occurred to her. Every time she started to allow herself to consider that someone - that Edward - could love someone like her, she pushed the thought out of her mind.

How?

She was shattered, broken.

Even if she wanted it - and that was something she hadn't allowed herself to consider yet - how could it possibly be fair? What good was she to anyone?

"Bella?" Esme called softly. "Why don't you join me for a moment? Anyway, not to be such a girl, but football bores me to tears."

"She lies," Carlisle told Emmett. "She'll watch the college games. But between you and me, I think it's the college boys and their tight pants."

Nodding, Bella obediently followed Esme into her office.

"How are you doing, Bella?"

One word from Esme, and Bella wanted to spill everything.

But Edward was her son.

"Can I ask you a very private question?"

"Of course."

Bella looked down at her hands. "How long was it... before you and Carlisle were... okay again?"

"Oh." Esme seemed a little shocked.

"I'm sorry. I have no right to ask-"

"No, you're fine. I just wasn't expecting it, is all." Esme smiled. "I'm happy to answer your question, Bella, but I'm more concerned about why you're asking."

Bella couldn't answer.

"You should know by now that there's no right way to do this," Esme said quietly.

"No, but there has to be a right and wrong thing to do." Even to her own ears, Bella's voice was dead. She was trying very hard not to feel anything, terrified her suspicions were right - she had no business wanting this.

Esme paused, collecting her thoughts. "Every relationship should also be a partnership. Is that what you mean?"

Slowly, Bella nodded.

"I wasn't a very good partner for a long time afterward. Poor Carlisle... He was such a saint. Taking care of me, working, taking care of Edward. For months, and months, and months." She took Bella's hand. "But he loved me. It took him forever to convince me it was reality - that anyone could still love me, but he was patient."

Carefully, Esme reached out, cupping Bella's cheek tenderly. Bella closed her eyes, as always revelling in just one moment of motherly affection. "Sweetheart... my son is very patient, and very much in love with you."

Bella looked up, her eyes wide and guilty.

Esme smiled, patting her cheek. "He didn't tell me. I know my son. He wears his heart on his sleeve.

"And as for you, consider giving yourself the option of believing you are not only worthy of love, but deserving." She stroked her hand down Bella's hair. "And capable."

In spite of her best effort, emotion overwhelmed Bella. She put a hand over her mouth as tears welled and coursed from the corners of her eyes. Esme tugged her gently, and Bella went willingly.

"It's like everything else, Bella," Esme murmured, rubbing her back. "If it's something you want, you can absolutely push yourself. And just like everything else, you're going to make strides and you're going to fall back. You're going to be proud of yourself, and you're going to be frustrated."

Pulling back, Esme cupped Bella's face in her hands. "There is no timeline. Don't make assumptions. If you need to stop, you'll stop."

"You can't want this for him," Bella whispered. "He's your son. You should want something... better."

Esme tilted her face up and waited until Bella looked at her. "You know, after all he's had to see, I honestly worried that I'd... broken him. That he wouldn't ever love. I know you don't see it, Bella. But you've changed him. For the better."

"I just don't want to hurt him," Bella said fervently.

"Oh, honey. You will."

Biting the inside of her cheek, Bella looked down again.

"That's what people do when they love each other. And he will screw up and hurt you too at some point. He's not a saint, Bella."

"That's not what I'm talking about."

"I know. This is what you have to deal with in your life. It isn't right, and it isn't fair... but from what I've seen, it will always be something. Maybe, in some alternate universe, you could have ended up married strangers in Vegas. Or you might have fallen in love with your English professor. Or maybe you could have fallen in love with a 107-year-old vampire."

Bella huffed, almost laughing. But Esme's little monologue had its intended effect. Bella felt like she could breathe again.

Esme pulled her into a hug. "You don't have to have all the answers, now, sweetheart."

_**~0~**_

Edward pursed his lips, noticing that Bella was obviously nervous about where they were headed. It said a lot about how much she trusted him that she wasn't asking, though she obviously wanted to.

"We're just going to the animal shelter," he said finally, deciding the surprise wasn't worth her peace of mind. "I've arranged for them to stay open an extra hour-"

"Oh, Edward," she sighed. "You shouldn't have done that."

"It's not a big deal. No one goes home when they close anyway, they'll just be letting us in." He glanced at her, noticing her exasperated expression had become something more curious. "So are you a cat person or a dog person?" He thought for a moment. "Or maybe a hamster person. I think they have a rabbit."

"What are we going to do at the animal shelter?" she asked suspiciously.

Edward flashed her an innocent grin. "Everyone should play with an animal." He frowned. "Unless you're allergic. Are you allergic?"

Bella shook her head.

"Well, good then. Did you know petting an animal regularly actually extends your life? And it's good for the animals, too, to be let out and played with a while."

She shifted, and when he looked, her expression seemed brighter. "We're going to play with the dogs?"

"Yeah. If you want."

"That's... That'd be really great, actually."

A few minutes later, as they approached the shelter, Bella reached over to take his hand. She didn't let it go even when it was just them and one attendant - a girl who gave them plenty of space - as they browsed through the kennels.

Bella was smiling as she knelt in front of this kennel or that, putting her hand against the bars to get licks or trying to coax the shy dogs out of their little corners.

One guy in particular - a dog who looked like a Jack Russel but was far more stocky and much larger - was going nuts, yipping, and barking, and flashing them a big, doggy grin.

"Hi. Hi, little guy," Bella said, sticking her fingers through the cage. The dog yipped merrily and licked her fingers. Bella's delighted laugh made Edward's heart warm.

"Can we meet this one?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Of course," the attendant agreed, approaching them with the key. "This guy's a character. He's a very sweet dog, but very active."

Sure enough, no sooner had the woman gotten the gate open a crack than the dog pushed his way through. He rushed at Bella, and Edward tightened his arm around her, but the dog only jumped at her feet, not attacking. Bella bent at the waist, petting the dog's fluffy head.

The attendant sighed, swooping down to pick the dog up. "Jake. Can't you have any patience?" She scratched him behind his ears. "Come on, folks. The play area is just through here."

"His name is Jake?"

"Yes. He's about three years old. His old owner moved and couldn't take him. But the bright side there is he has all his shots, he's trained, so he'll tell you when he's ready to go outside. He even knows a few tricks."

They got to the play area where the attendant left them alone.

Edward was content to watch as Bella played with Jake. She ran around with him, throwing little toys for him to fetch, getting in a tug of war. For once, she looked completely carefree and happy.

He could watch her like this for hours.

Tired out from running, Bella plopped on the ground next to him. Jake quickly cuddled up to her, tilting his head up to lick at her chin. She sighed and wrapped her arms around the dog, hugging him tightly.

"You like him?" Edward asked.

Bella looked over, letting Jake go enough so she could rub his fuzzy head. "He's a sweetheart."

Edward peered at the dog and stuck his hand out to pet him. Quick as a whip, Jake turned and snarled, nipping at Edward's outstretched hand.

"What the hell!" Edward exclaimed in surprise.

The dog's stance was distinctly protective as he gave a smaller growl.

Bella furrowed her brows. "Jake, stop that," she admonished, petting the dog carefully.

"I'm sorry about that. Jake. Heel," the attendant called, and the dog backed off, putting his head on his paws and staring at Edward. "He must like you," she explained to Bella. "He gets very protective of people he likes."

Testing, Edward put his hand on Bella's shoulder. The dog's eyes followed him and he let loose a low rumble of a growl. "Well, I don't suppose I could fault you that, little guy," he muttered grudgingly.

Looking at Bella as she pet Jake in long, slow strokes, Edward cleared his throat. "So, what would you think about keeping him?"

Bella's head snapped up. "What?"

"I've been thinking," he said slowly. "Maybe it would do you good to have a dog. Then you're never really alone."

Blinking, obviously shocked, Bella stared at him. "Edward... I can't have a dog in the apartment."

"Why not? Your apartment allows pets."

"But can't... I mean, I don't... How can I take care of him?"

"Well, one of us is usually with you. I could keep him at night, at least until you're comfortable taking him out, or we could train him to pee on a pad on the balcony." He gave her a small smile. "There's a dog park just a block away from your place, did you know that?"

Bella shook her head slowly.

"It's a nice park. Lots of kids, dogs of course."

She still looked dubious. "But... They need... Stuff."

Edward studied her for a moment. He thought she looked cautiously eager, so he pressed ahead. "I have everything you could possibly need to take care of this dog in my trunk right now." At her stunned look, he hurried on. "I've thought about this a lot. There's no pressure on you, Bella. If you decide it's too much responsibility, Alice will take him, no questions asked." He rolled his eyes. "She's the type. She's been wanting a dog for ages so she'll be happy to-"

She launched herself forward suddenly, cutting him off with a firm kiss. She lingered, and Jake bounced around them, barking his displeasure but not disturbing them.

"I don't know why you do these things for me, but thank you."

* * *

**A/N: I brought Jacob into it! Uh oh! Is he gonna be trouble?**

**Thank you to barburella, jfka06, jessypt, and ginnyw for their endless patience.**

**How we doing, kids?**


	23. Stepping

**A/N: Youz guyz. I luffs youz guyz. **

* * *

Bella stood in the doorway of her room, staring at her bed.

As she struggled to breathe past the automatic anxiety, she heard the click-clack of claws against the wood of her floor. Sure enough, Jake paused by her legs, staring up at her questioningly. He made a snuffling sound and continued into the room, jumping up at the bed. As she watched, he turned around and around before lying down, his head on his paws, staring at her.

"Oh, sure," she muttered. "That's easy for you to say."

Jake stared, and Bella sighed, wringing her hands together fitfully.

She hadn't touched a real bed in over eight months. Once, at the very beginning of all this, someone had carried her to her bed when she fell asleep in the living room. When she woke up, she'd been confused about where she was. It was one of the worst panic attacks she'd had.

A little voice in the back of her head chastised her for trying to do this alone. Any of her friends would have been here for her. Edward could have been here.

But then, she was doing this for him.

Well, that wasn't entirely accurate. There was no denying Edward - specifically being able to even think about having something more than friendship with Edward - was the impetus for what she was trying to do now.

She didn't really know how to feel about why she'd decided to start with the bed. Thinking about that made her jumpy and anxious... and bashful. It seemed logical. Most of her other, bigger issues included leaving her apartment, which she really wasn't comfortable with - at least not alone - as of yet, especially since the public's curiosity had been renewed with Mike's suicide.

Not to mention, her physical therapist had told her more than once that sleeping on the sofa doing her body any favors.

Raising his head, Jake yipped at her, his tail wagging and his doggy grin wide. Bella gave him a small smile.

"It's not so scary, is that what you're trying to say?" She shuffled forward. "It's not even the same kind of bed." She took a few more steps forward. Jake stood, his body tensed, like he was waiting for her to come play with him. "The headboard has shelves instead of..."

Instead of bars.

No one could tie her to this bed.

She'd torn the hell out of the inside of her cheek, gnawing away at it the way she was.

Reaching out, Bella palmed the top of Jake's fuzzy head, using him as an anchor to the real world. No one was here. No one was going to hurt her in this bed.

Excited, Jake instantly tried to get up on her lap when she sat down. Bella wrapped her arms around him, cuddling him closer. Hyper dog that he was, it was surprising that Jake stayed mostly still as Bella lay down, tucking her legs up so she was in a fetal position. She closed her eyes, trying to take even breaths. Her heart was beating out of control.

Horrible, visceral images assaulted her, making her wince. She ran her fingers through Jake's fur as she shook each memory away.

As awful as the memories were, they released her after a minute or so. The air smelled different here. There was light. And the bed was so firm - much more comfortable than either of Mike's beds.

Of course it would be comfortable. Edward had bought the basics when he'd rented the apartment for her. He would have bought the bed with the best support c available.

He'd always taken such good care of her.

Bella gave a little gasp when Jake started to lick her chin, wiggling to get out of her grip. She let him go, but he didn't go far. He licked her face and settled down next to her head.

How Edward seemed to know exactly what she needed, Bella didn't think she'd ever understand.

Jake was... just warm. Exactly what she needed. She found herself talking to him. It was nice because she could say anything. All the things that she couldn't - just couldn't - say to her friends, she could tell Jake. He wouldn't get that look on his face, that pained, pitying look. Petting him made her calm. Playing with him made her happy. Theirs was a simple relationship. Bella played with him, fed him, and - mostly with the help of her friends - walked him. Doing those relatively minor things made Jake's world blissful.

It was nice to make someone happy. Well, mostly. He'd done that bad, bad dog look when she caught him chewing one of her favorite books to shreds. The way he'd hung his head...

With a sigh, Bella tried to relax, concentrating on petting Jake.

Slowly, her anxiety began to ease. She wasn't exactly comfortable, but she wasn't anywhere close to panicking either. Bella was pleased with herself for a moment before chagrin set in.

Yes. Because being able to lay on a bed meant she was ready for a relationship.

Suddenly frustrated and tired, Bella rubbed her eyes.

She didn't know what she was doing.

The word 'relationship' and all that was implied with it made her horribly nervous, scared, confused, tangled, and a little wrecked.

But at the same time, since she'd begun to wrap her head around the possibility of... _something _with Edward, it seemed like her life wasn't as absolutely aimless as it had been all these months. Even as she struggled, she'd been adrift. There was an undeniable sense of hope in her now, a tether she could feel.

Bella vaguely remembered babbling to Edward, early in their acquaintance, wondering why she'd thought her life was worth saving, why she hadn't just let Mike kill her, sparing herself. She was nobody's most important person. Yes, her friends would mourn, but there were more important things in their lives.

As shattered as she felt - and she did feel torn asunder at the soul level - Bella had seen with her own eyes that someone who had been through what she had could be someone's most important person. The logic was there; Bella thought maybe one day, she could actually believe it was still possible for her.

In quiet moments, when Bella's demons took a brief respite from their near continuous battering of her psyche, she found herself seeing Edward the way any normal woman might.

Bella wasn't oblivious to the fact Edward would have been a perfect match for her former self. If only they'd met before - when she could have been a true partner.

But that wasn't reality.

If she was going to consider being Edward's most important person, she needed to get stronger.

It was, like everything in her life seemed to be lately, a confusing paradox. Was it just another form of weakness that it took the idea she could have something more with Edward to stoke her need to be better?

"Let me ask you this," Dr. Romero began when Bella vented her confusion some days later. "Why do you want to get better for him?"

To Bella, the answer should have been obvious. To her mind, all relationships - friendship, work, romantic or otherwise - should be give and take. Of late, she'd been all take, but at least with the others, they knew she could be a good friend. Edward, on the other hand, had been all give.

"I shouldn't even be thinking I can do this. Not to him," Bella had answered Zafrina. "He's always been there for me - even when I didn't know him." She shook her head slowly. "I... hate that I feel this way for him when I'm just a burden." She gave her therapist a sad look. "He's always saving me... but I can't always be Lois Lane. I want to be Superman, too."

This last part was whispered, and Bella had to turn away, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

"I'll tell you what I think," Zafrina said after a moment. "Humans aren't meant to be solitary creatures. I think a person without personal connections is missing an essential part of their humanity. And yes... people can hurt you. You know this. But you have also said yourself that people are more likely to help you, and you know this from experience as well.

"Your concerns are valid. A healthy relationship is give and take." She ducked her head quickly to catch Bella's gaze, stopping her from staring down at her shoes. "But you're already working on getting that back. You're aware of it, and that _is_give."

She paused, tapping her pen in the air for a handful of moments. "When a person goes through a traumatic event, as you have, of course you feel lost."

Bella scoffed. Lost didn't begin to cover it.

Zafrina nodded her understanding. "Your world is spinning. Sometimes what it takes to grab a hold of life again is to have something, someone to get better for. I don't think that's weakness. In fact, in your case, I think it takes a tremendous amount of strength that you're not dismissing this outright. You aren't doing this for Edward, Bella. You're doing this - including letting yourself consider the possibility of being more with him - for you. You were working hard to get better before any of this happened."

_**~0~**_

Edward was frantic.

Last night, he'd fallen asleep with his cell phone in his hand. It happened occasionally that Bella wouldn't call until the very small hours of the morning but only rarely. The longest she'd slept in all these months was around six hours, and that wasn't very typical.

When she did fall asleep without talking to Edward, she always woke up in the throes of a nightmare. She would call him in a panic, a little senseless. Though his heart was breaking and he wanted nothing more than to race to her side so he could hold her in his arms, he simply talked. He talked until she remembered where she was and when she was, until her mind was her own again.

But it was nearly six-thirty in the morning and she hadn't called.

When Edward finally gave in and called her, it went straight to voicemail.

Then it was Edward's turn to panic.

Each scenario that presented itself to his overactive imagination was more uncomfortable than the last. By the time he was in front of her door, his heart was in his throat and racing uncomfortably fast. He knocked on her door urgently.

Almost instantly, Jake's barks emanated from behind the door. Edward heard the quick clack of his feet approaching. He banged on the door again.

It was only when he heard Bella's voice shushing the dog that Edward could breathe again. Still, the franticness didn't leave him. She opened the door, rubbing her eyes like a sleepy child, and blinked at him. Jake continued to yip and growl at Edward.

"Are you okay?" Edward asked, sidestepping Jake to step closer to Bella.

Still out of it with sleep, Bella's eyebrows furrowed. "Yes. Edward, what's going on? You look upset."

"I've just..." Edward took a deep breath, bending a little at the waist. He still felt on edge even though she was obviously fine and right in front of him. "I've been calling," he finished lamely.

Again it took Bella a few seconds to process his words. "Oh. My phone. I don't think I plugged it in before..." Her eyes went wide and she looked up at him. "What time is it?"

"About six-thirty," he said quietly.

She stared and then gave an incredulous little laugh. "Edward... I slept. I fell asleep, and I slept the whole night without a nightmare."

Seeing the grin that lit her face, Edward finally let himself believe she was fine. More than fine, this was a definite, definable stride forward. Those were few and far between.

Relieved, Edward reached forward to pull her into a tight hug. It only lasted a second before he realized what he'd done and quickly let her go.

Bella looked at him, her expression contemplative as he took a deliberate step backward. She sighed, the usual tightness around the corners of her eyes returning. Before he could ask, the damn dog started barking again, growling and jumping at Edward's feet.

Jake still wasn't very happy when Edward was near Bella.

Baring his teeth at the dog, Edward growled back.

Bella rolled her eyes. "You're just riling him up," she warned. To Jake, she shook a finger. "Stop," she commanded.

He looked at her and gave a little snarl indicating his displeasure.

Shaking her head, Bella took Edward's hand, guiding him over to the couch. She kicked the blankets out of her way, answering one of the questions he had. She'd been able to take short naps on her bed, but she was still sleeping on the couch.

When she let go of his hand, Edward pulled back a little. She watched him, uncertainty and a hint of sadness creeping into her features. "Did you know you used to touch me a lot more before I kissed you?" she asked softly.

Edward's heart twisted. He could tell she was hurt by this observation. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I don't want to push you," he explained, his tone careful.

They really hadn't spoken at all about what was going on between them - not the 'I love yous' or the kisses. In all honesty, Edward was almost afraid to. He didn't want to push his luck.

He was playing it by ear, letting her call the shots. When she wanted to kiss him, he was gentle... and enthusiastic. Sometimes it took all his self-control not to touch her, hold her as he really wanted.

"I wasn't uncomfortable before," she pointed out. "I think... I think we need to talk."

Edward sucked in a breath. He'd been fearing this moment since the first kiss. He was afraid she would run, afraid she would expect that he wanted more from her than she was capable of giving at that moment.

But she was right; it was long past time when they should have discussed this. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he said with a soft sigh. "Sometimes, it's very difficult to be so careful." Slowly, so she saw what he was doing, Edward raised his hand and cupped her cheek, stroking his thumb along her chin. "It's natural, I think, to want to express what I feel for you physically, but I don't want to push you."

She looked down. "It's a pain in the ass, isn't it?" she grumbled. "It's a lot of work when you can't... when I can't..." She closed her eyes. "I don't know why it's worth it."

He snorted lightly, determined to take this comment in stride no matter how much it pained him. After all, he remembered only too well how often he heard his mother making so many of the same statements.

"_I'm useless. A useless mother and a useless wife_," she'd said once, her voice so defeated. "_You should get away from me. Take Edward. I won't fight you. I'm not worth it._"

Edward had been terrified.

He echoed the words his father had said then. "You don't get to decide what you're worth to me. I love you, and I'm not going anywhere."

"I don't know-"

"Please don't say you don't understand why." He caressed her cheek gently as he spoke. "You don't have to understand right now. Just listen. _Hear_the words. Don't block them out," he pleaded. "I'm being more careful now because I always want to kiss you." He brushed his fingers over her lips, her cheek, her chin. "I always want to touch you, but I don't want to scare you. I'm afraid I'll forget myself, and do the wrong thing. The last thing I want is to hurt you."

She was staring at him, her eyes brimming with tears. Her breath was shuddering as she raised her hands, wrapping her fingers around his wrist. Slowly, she moved his hands down.

He wasn't sure what she was doing - her eyes were closed and her expression unreadable - until she guided his hands, pressing them flat against her sides, above her waist. They were both still for a moment. Bella took deep, even breaths.

With a little sigh, she leaned forward and kissed him softly. "Please keep telling me," she said in a whisper. "I promise I'm trying to really hear it." She wound her arms around his neck, pulling herself against him. "I promise I'm trying to believe."

Experimentally, Edward let his hands drift up and down her sides. She didn't pull away. He slid his hands up her back, pressing her closer.

It felt good to hold her against him when she wasn't crying or trembling.

Her fingers tickled his neck, running up into his hair. Edward shivered. It felt amazing. "I'm sorry I scared you this morning," she said, brushing her cheek against his.

"Hmm?" Edward hummed, a little blissed out. "Oh, Bella. I'm glad you slept. I'm sorry I woke you."

"I'm actually glad you're here now." She pulled back slightly, looking him over carefully. Moving her hands to cup his face, she ran the tips of her fingers under his eyes. "You look so tired."

He shrugged, running his hands up and down her back, just enjoying that he could touch her this way. Now that she mentioned it, he was very tired, but he didn't want to go anywhere any time soon.

Jake wandered into the living room with a big chew toy and sat to chew it where he could keep an eye on everything. Edward made faces at the dog.

Bella shifted, scooting away from him toward the end of the couch. Edward had to work to keep the displeased expression off his face until she offered him her hand. Her expression was so shy, Edward was curious. He put his hand to hers and raised his eyebrows in question.

"Come here," she murmured. She was blushing, but there was a tenderness in her eyes. "Lie down with me."

Edward was shocked, and it must have been obvious. Bella ducked her head. "Let me take care of you for once."

His eyes on her, he let her guide him down so his head was resting on her lap. Her smile was small but pleased. She leaned down, reaching over them to pull the blanket up off the floor. He helped her spread it over his shoulders and her legs, and yawned as he reached up, caressing her cheek once more.

Edward fell back asleep in the early hours of the morning, soothed by Bella's fingers running through his hair.

* * *

**A/N: Oh my goodness, you guys. If you could only see my docs. They're insane. There are flails and whole side conversations about soft beds...**

**I'd like to thank GinnyW, shug, jessypt, jfka06, and barburella.**

**So many colors. And opinions.**

**What's yours? Opinion, I mean.**


	24. Rewrite

**A/N: This note is hoping all my east coast friends are doing well and staying safe. Thinking of you. **

* * *

"Um, Rosalie. Maybe we need to move these things to the counter."

Rosalie looked over at Bella, but before she could react, there was the sound of claws click-clacking quickly across the wood floor. He gave a happy bark and leapt up on the coffee table. As luck would have it, his bounce set the bowl of salad flying and it landed mostly on Rosalie, coating her head in dressing-laden lettuce, shredded veggies, cheese, and croutons.

Bella clapped a hand over her mouth, feeling just as shocked as Rosalie looked. Then, her friend's eyes narrowed. With a growl, she lunged at the dog who blithely dodged, having already clenched his prize - half a turkey sandwich - between his jaws.

Obviously furious, Rosalie turned back to Bella, pointing at the dog and seething. "He. Got. Food. In. My. Hair."

Bella pressed her lips together, but it was no use. Rosalie looked utterly ridiculous and her anger just made the whole situation funnier.

A giggle slipped out.

Then a titter.

And then, Bella was laughing.

It had been so long since Bella had laughed like this, it almost frightened her. This was a humor that originated from somewhere deep in her belly, taking over her whole body. She doubled over with the power of it, howling, laughing all the harder because it felt so good.

Once she started, she couldn't seem to stop. Her diaphragm ached and she toppled over to the side, resting her head on the arm of the couch while she tried to sneak a breath in between the peels of laughter.

"It's not funny, Bella," Rosalie groused, but there was no real ire in her tone.

Bella looked up only start laughing again. "It really, really is," she said between gasps. She tried to sit up straight, but Rosalie gave her a little shove. Still overcome, Bella crumpled to the side again, giggling.

When she finally calmed down, Bella straightened up, wiping tears from her eyes. She grinned at Rosalie who had her arms crossed and her lips pursed. But Rosalie broke into a smile and impulsively came forward, pulling Bella into a hug.

Bella stiffened for just a moment more out of surprise than anything else. It had been forever since any of her friends had been easy with her. If they touched her at all, it was with completely exaggerated movements.

But this... this was nice. Bella wrapped her arms around Rose, squeezing tightly.

They rocked for a minute before Rosalie let her go, backing up a bit. She chuffed. "Great," she muttered. "Now there's food in _your_hair."

Bella smiled, sitting back. "Ah, who cares?"

"I do!" Rosalie grumbled, standing up. "I hate your dog," she called from the kitchen. "You hear that, mutt? I hate you!"

Her hands over her mouth, Bella smothered another giggle.

Rosalie came back with clean hair and a fresh sandwich.

As they settled down to eat, Bella chewed the inside of her lip much more than her sandwich.

It was nice - feeling normal with her friend.

It was a perfectly normal to want to gab with her girl friend about the guy she was seeing.

Haltingly, she tried. She was out of practice with this - just chatting. No matter how much she attempted to keep it light, she just couldn't.

It was frustrating. As much as she wanted to pretend it wasn't a big deal... it was. As much as they liked Edward, she was sure her friends would have concerns - the same concerns she had.

They couldn't be a normal couple. Bella wasn't a normal girl.

Bella hated that she'd taken this fantastically light atmosphere and made it heavy. But done was done.

And Rosalie's silence, the way her friend wasn't looking at her, was making her very nervous, making her think the worst. It was nothing new, of course. She doubted herself at least a dozen times a day. Sometimes she went as far as texting Edward.

He was so patient.

"Rose. Please say something."

Rosalie was concentrating very hard on her iced tea. "Whatever you want, Bella. I'm sure it will be fine."

Bella balked. "Okay. No. I don't know what you're doing, but you've got to be one of the most opinionated people I know."

"Yeah, and look where me and my opinions got you last time," Rosalie snapped. The next instant, she realized what she'd just said and slapped her hands over her mouth, looking at Bella with guilt in her eyes.

"Oh, Rose," Bella said on a breath. She looked away, her eyes automatically filling with tears. "You can't still be blaming yourself for that."

Rose shrugged. "I was pushy. I shouldn't have been."

"I don't blame you." Bella grimaced. "I know I said some things before, but I didn't mean it. "

"Nothing you said was untrue. I was the one who found the place. I told you to say yes to him." Incredibly, her friend's voice wavered. "If it wasn't for me pushing my opinions on you-"

"It's not your fault," Bella said firmly. "It's not your fault any more than it's Edward's fault he built a compatibility program that paired us together. You encouraged your friend to go on a date... that's like, best friends 101." She wrung her hands together fitfully a moment. "I mean, if you want to look at it that way, if I hadn't been so anti-social in the first place, it never would have happened."

"Bella," Rosalie's voice was mildly exasperated. They'd had this conversation. Repeatedly.

"Isn't that what you've been trying to tell me?" She shook her head. "Monsters exist and one of them found me. That's all there is to it. It wasn't anyone's fault. Not yours, not Edward's, and not..." Sucking in a breath, Bella willed herself to believe her next words. Maybe if she repeated it enough she would believe. "Not mine."

Reaching out, her movements careful again, Rosalie took Bella's hands and squeezed. Bella looked up, smiling a small smile. "So tell me really... This... thing with Edward."

Rosalie gave a small snort. "Well, him being in love with you isn't a surprise."

"It isn't?"

"No. That was obvious. I didn't worry about it because I thought it would be a cold day in hell before Edward did anything about how he felt."

"That's probably very true. If I hadn't overheard him talking to Emmett..."

"I can't believe Emmett kept that from me." Rosalie shook her head, smiling fondly. "Honestly, Bella... my first reaction is to be completely happy for you."

"Really?"

"Yeah. What I wanted for you before - companionship, for you to find someone who adored you - I still want it." Her look was sad as she paused a moment. "It's actually a big relief."

Bella's eyebrows knitted together. "A relief?"

"In a way. When I thought about the future, of when you might start dating someone..." She smirked at Bella. "Well, let's just say I expected to do Charlie proud in the overprotective department. Each of your dates would have been properly vetted and met at the door with a shotgun in hand.

"But Edward is different. Edward has always been attuned to what you need. That's pretty good boyfriend material. Plus he is the biggest dork - have you been to his house? Nerd central." Her eyebrows waggled playfully. "And the whole handsome rich thing doesn't hurt."

"Rose!" Bella blushed.

"What? It's true. It's not my fault it's true."

"That doesn't even matter," Bella muttered, though she had to admit, it was true. She might have been in a haze for most of the last nine months, but the fact Edward was undeniably gorgeous had not escaped her.

With a sigh, Rosalie scooted closer to Bella, putting her arm around her. "You know what I wish?" she asked, leaning her head against Bella's.

"What's that?"

"Instead of connecting you with that bastard, I wish it would have been Edward."

Bella's heart twisted, and she closed her eyes. For a moment, the ache at the center of her chest was too much to bear. She breathed in through her nose until she could speak again. She huffed. "I need a reset but-."

She stared off.

"Bella?" Rosalie was watching her, concerned.

She just shook her head.

_**~0~**_

Bella was lost in her thoughts. It wasn't so atypical. The fog claimed her off and on. She was getting better, but there were times she would be quiet for hours on end.

Edward didn't mind in the slightest. He worried, of course he worried. He watched her, waiting for the tightness around her eyes to become anxiety. When it didn't, he gently prodded her, asking if she wanted to take a walk to the dog park.

Soon enough, they were walking down the street. Bella clung to his arm, but she didn't seem overly frightened. The sidewalk wasn't too crowded and the walk was short.

After Jake was loosed, doing barrel rolls with the other dogs, Edward led Bella over to an unoccupied bench.

He waited.

It was only about five minutes before she spoke.

"There's something I want."

He took her hands in his, pulling them to his lips. The day was cool and her fingers were cold. He blew warmth against her skin. "Anything you want, you can have it."

Her smile was gentle. "It's a little strange," she warned.

"Anything," he said again.

"How did I know you'd say that?"

He just smirked, kissing the tip of her nose gently.

She sighed, happy and content for a moment before her face fell. She pressed her lips together, looking distinctly nervous.

"My, um..." She shifted closer to him. "My... My BTN profile. It's secured, isn't it?"

Edward stiffened with shock. That was about the last thing he would have expected her to ask.

Unsure about where she was going, his answer was hesitant. "That's right. No one has access to it, not even the FBI anymore."

"But you do?"

He nodded slowly. "Yeah, I have access."

Her lips worked as she searched for words. Edward was on tenterhooks, wishing he could read her mind to know what she was trying to ask for. "Do you have a profile? I mean, you must. It's your company. You must have had one. Even if only for testing."

"Uh. Yeah, I do. It's also secure." He waited, entirely impatient as Bella again lapsed into silence. "Sweetheart, you're killing me here."

"It just seems so silly."

He stroked his fingers down her cheek. "I'm sure it's not silly."

She scoffed. "Well... Can you... can you run the the program to only consider... our compatibility? Just yours and mine?"

Again, Edward was shocked. He tried to think of all the reasons she might want to know this. His heart ached, wondering if she was doubting them again. "I can do that," he said. "Is that what you want me to do?"

Another long pause, then Bella got up on her knees on the bench. Edward's lips quirked. He wondered briefly if she'd always ignored social norms. She looked at him, nervous but there was... a spark in her eyes.

"I want to rewrite our story," she said finally. "It is... It _is_stupid. But I want to know."

"What do you want to know, Bella?"

Her breath was a little hitched. She wasn't looking at him anymore. "I want to know what would have happened if it was you. If it was you and not him." She pressed her lips together, but before Edward could speak, she was talking again. "Look... I'm not trying to pretend." She picked up his hand, playing with his fingers. "I know who I am. It doesn't matter how much I wish it was different. What happened..." She closed her eyes tight, and he took her hands, squeezing. "It's a part of me. But, I want to see what it would be like. … It's stupid."

"Stop saying it's stupid," he requested gently. "It isn't stupid." His tone was heavier than he wanted it to be. He was nearly breathless with the desire to reset the clock, save her from all this pain.

He blew out a long breath, pulling her hands to his lips again, kissing it this time. "What if it says we're not very compatible?"

Her eyes flitted up to his. She was crying, but there was that spark again. "Well, then I won't have very high expectations for our first date."

His heartbeat picked up and his lips turned up at the corners. He was trying not to grin as broadly as he wanted to. He made a concerted effort to keep his face serious. "That's probably a good idea. So..." He drew his fingers up and down her back. "Where shall we go on our date?"

Sniffling, Bella looked at him, giving him a teasing grin. "Don't get ahead of yourself, slick. What if I don't like you?"

Chuckling, he leaned forward, kissing her forehead tenderly. "It'll be a hard sell."

_**~0~**_

Edward had been staring at his computer for minute when a knock at the door drew him out of his thoughts. He got up in something of a daze, answering the door to find his father standing on the other side.

As always, Carlisle could be trusted to pick up on Edward's mood. Edward had found this talent endlessly annoying when he was a teenager. That day he was nothing but appreciative. Waving off whatever had brought him over in the first place, Carlisle asked what was on Edward's mind. He listened as his son told him about Bella's request.

"She went back and filled out the complete profile - every survey we have ," Edward explained. "I ran her results against mine and..."

He turned his laptop around so Carlisle could see.

"98.7% compatibility," his father read aloud. He looked up at Edward. "That's very good, right?"

"That's.. practically unheard of."

He pursed his lips, debating for a moment before he decided he needed someone to vent to. "To tell you the truth, I was... scared when she asked me to do this."

"What were you afraid of?" Carlisle asked.

"It's hard to say." Edward looked at his father, knowing he would understand what he was talking about. "I understand why she asked for this. I hate that it took something so ugly to bring us together.

"This... thing." He held his hands out helplessly, as if to trying to grab something completely indescribable. "This awful thing that happened to her. It's so big. It's so a part of who we are."

"You're afraid of what might happen when you have to define yourselves outside of this situation - the trauma she's going through?" Carlisle guessed.

Edward nodded slowly. "I don't doubt that I'm in love with her."

"But?"

Edward hesitated, trying to find the right words. This was not the easiest conversation he'd ever had. "But she's so strong, Dad. She doesn't see that yet, but she will. I've been afraid that one day she's going to wake up and realize we've got nothing in common and she can do so much better than me."

Attempting a smile, he tapped on his laptop screen. "At least now I know it won't be the former." He shrugged and looked at his father somewhat sheepishly, trying to cast off his needless, useless anxiety. "It's just an odd situation to find love."

Carlisle's expression was thoughtful as he tilted his head, stroking his chin. "Have I ever told you how I met your mother?" he asked when he finally spoke.

Edward knitted his brows together. "Um, a college party, right."

"Well, that was how I met her the second time."

"How do you meet someone more than once?" Edward mused.

"The first time I met your mother, I was nineteen. I was doing charity work at the hospital."

"Kissing up to the right people you mean," Edward filled in, teasing.

"Well..." Carlisle looked somewhat abashed. "Yes, but that's beside the point." He settled back in his chair, his look far off. "Your mother came into the hospital one day. The emergency room was busy and she'd fractured her leg. I sat with her for all of five minutes when your grandmother ducked outside to make a phone call. Five minutes."

Edward did the math quickly. "She was sixteen!" he exclaimed, a little scandalized.

"Exactly," Carlisle agreed with a wry nod. "She was sixteen - a kid compared to my vast nineteen years of experience, and I was only with her that short time, but that was all it took.

"Five minutes of conversation and I never stopped thinking about her, wondering about her, recalling every second of those minutes in excruciatingly embarrassing detail. Three years later, and I knew exactly who she was when she walked into that party.

"So I first fell in love with your mother for no reason at all. And three years later, I fell in love with her for every reason." The private smile fell, Carlisle's lips turned down, the skin around his eyes tightening. He swallowed hard before he spoke again. "Then when this horrible thing happened to her, what we had, who we were, the amazing woman I'd fallen in love with over and over again... it was all just... shattered."

Carlisle didn't need to tell Edward this part of the story. Edward's fists clenched as he remembered in vivid detail how his mother had been replaced by a woman in an Esme mask, a woman who cried all the time, screamed in her sleep, flew into terrifying fits of panic and equally frightening periods of complete apathy. The mood in the house went from being relatively happy to being oppressive - so heavy it threatened to choke him.

"But of course, I fell in love with the person she became."

He turned to Edward then, coming back to the present. "And really, Edward, wasn't this very idea exactly what your company was build on?"

Edward tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

"Didn't you always say your intention was not to help people find love but to help them find compatible companionship?" Carlisle reminded. "You said yourself, you can't quantify love. You can't put a number value on it or apply any sort of logic."

"Love is a little bit of magic and chance," he echoed his own words from years before.

"Very aptly put, in my experience," Carlisle said with a small smile. "You can't control who you fall in love with, so there is the only explanation you need for why you fell in love with Bella. There's your magic."

He leaned forward, his hand on the laptop. "And here are the numbers that tell you, you have more in common than you've even discovered yet."

Edward considered his father's words, biting the inside of his cheek. "I guess there's only one question then."

"What's that?"

"Where am I going to take her on our first date?"

* * *

**A/N: Hmmm. Good question.**

**What are your thoughts on the matter, readers?**


	25. First Date

**A/N: *hugs* I love you guys**

* * *

It all still seemed a little surreal.

Edward had indulged her nonsense, going so far as to engage her via the in-network chat system. They had some 'getting to know you' conversations sparked by their results.

In a way, the interactions were slightly unnerving. This was exactly how it began with Mike: inane conversation, and while she was thinking at least they could have a decent conversation, he was seeing that they were perfect for each other.

But it was so different.

After all, as much as she wished she could actually replace her past with her present, it wasn't possible. But there was a good side to that, too. She knew without a doubt that Edward wasn't going to hurt her. More than that, she knew how much truth there was behind the computer's claim of compatibility.

When Edward's voice was the only thing that kept her grounded those long nights, she had mostly listened to the cadence of his tone. Occasionally, though, she would tune in and actually listened to what Edward was saying.

So many times she would find herself interested in his words, his thoughts, his description of his hobbies. She would ache because she wanted to just stop - stop panicking, make the world stop spinning, so she could have a normal conversation - a connection with another human being that didn't center around her trauma or the traumatic aftermath.

The connection was there. It was real - verifiable. Bella was slowly learning that the person she'd been all her life was still there. She had a different shape, but she hadn't been completely eradicated.

So they'd chatted and hinted at meeting, playing a game which Bella found alternately stupid and adorable. She had agreed to the date, bringing on the discussion of where to go.

With Mike it had been easy. There were only so many places one could go in Forks. The only discussion was really whether or not Bella would allow him to pick her up. Of course, she'd insisted on driving herself, for all the good it had done her.

She and Edward weren't limited in what they could do. Edward had made gentle overtones, suggesting they stay in - have a date at home. But Bella nixed that idea quickly. Her hands were shaking - the idea of crowds, of people brushing up against her or otherwise invading her personal space made her lungs want to seize - but she managed to type out that she wanted a date. In public. A normal date.

Her stomach twisted when she thought of it, the perpetually pessimistic voice in her head telling her it would all go to hell. She could freak out. She would embarrass him.

Or someone would be there - someone who seemed innocent, who interacted with people only to turn into a monster.

Bella continuously shook that thought away.

They'd gone back and forth for a time about where to go and what to do. Edward had finally asked if she trusted him enough to let him choose the venue. She did, and that was that.

Now she was getting ready for a date. A real date.

It was slightly changed up from what it had been the first time when it was just Rose. She was there, of course, but so was Alice.

A little overwhelmed, Bella let herself space out to the soothing sensation of Alice's brush through her hair. She wasn't paying very good attention to what Rosalie was muttering about in her closet.

"None of this stuff will fit you right now," she grumbled, looking through clothes. Bella had gotten so thin she was skeletal at one point. She was better, but still skinnier than she had been before. "Maybe this?" she held up a nice shirt, but Bella was already shaking her head. "Why not?"

Alice cleared her throat and answered for Bella. "The neckline dips too much in the back." Her tone was even, betraying no emotion.

"Oh," Rosalie said, understanding instantly what was wrong. She stared at the shirt for a moment and then gestured at Bella with it. "Maybe you should try it anyway."

At first, Bella was irritated at her friend's pushiness. Then she was overcome with appreciation. Wasn't this exactly what Bella had missed before? She looked up and gave her friend a small smile. "Not today," she said quietly.

Rosalie smiled back and nodded, returning to the closet to try again.

By the time Edward arrived to pick her up, Bella was equal parts excited and anxious. Her hair had been teased into soft waves, and she was otherwise presentable. For so many months, she'd worn nothing but her own shirts underneath over-sized sweaters and long-sleeved shirts. Today she wasn't as lumpy, wearing a fitted black sweatshirt and jeans.

As ridiculous as it was seeing as though hardly any of her skin was showing, Bella felt self-conscious and under-dressed. But when Edward's eyes swept her body and a grin lit up his face, a warmth stoked in the pit of her belly, and she felt shy - pleased and shy.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured as he took her hand, tugging her close for a sweet, soft kiss.

Alice gave a happy little squeal, and Bella pulled away from Edward, blushing but smiling. "Sorry," her friend squeaked. "I was just sure Edward was going to turn into a crazy cat lady in his old age."

"Shut up, mutt!" Rosalie growled at Jake - who'd been barking his head off since Edward knocked.

Edward bent down slightly, resting his hands on his knees and facing the dog. "I'm taking your human out to play and there's not a damn thing you can do about it. But don't worry, mongrel. I promise I'll take good care of her."

Bella shook her head, rolling her eyes. "You and that dog."

Smirking at her, Edward offered his arm. "Shall we?"

As he drove, Edward offered his hand. Bella was suddenly very glad this wasn't really the first time they'd met.

It was a glimpse. This could be just another normal day - a normal couple going out for...

"What are we doing?" Bella wondered out loud, suddenly nervous again. Maybe it was a bad idea not to get this information ahead of time. She might have been able to prepare...

Edward squeezed her hand. Instantly, Bella's anxiety lessened. "We're going to the lake," he said, watching her carefully.

Bella felt light headed. The lakeside was always crowded.

Again, Edward squeezed her fingers. "Trust me," he reminded.

Looking at him out of the corner of her eye, Bella nodded, concentrating on keeping her breathing even.

They pulled into an out of the way parking lot. Looking around - there was nothing but dock where they were - Bella began to realize what was going on. "Are we going on a boat?"

Looping his arm through hers, Edward gently pulled her forward. "Technically, it's a yacht."

"You have a yacht?"

Edward chuckled. "It's not mine. They rent it out for small groups for sightseeing dinner cruises around Lake Union," he explained. He looked at her a moment. "Is that okay?"

Blowing out a long, nervous breath, Bella looked up at him. "It sounds really nice," she said honestly. In her head, she was wondering if putting herself on a boat in the middle of the lake was a good idea. What would happen if she freaked out?

But of course, she should have trusted Edward had thought of everything. The yacht was all theirs save for a handful of wait staff - all women. Even the captain was a woman - a woman with a soothing voice who narrated as they dined.

A "normal" restaurant date... secluded on a yacht out on the lake. The best of both worlds.

Wine was poured and the appetizers served. Edward kept his hand over hers on the table. "We're going to pass the house from _Sleepless in Seattle_," he said gently, distracting her when the waitress leaned over her to pour the water. He knew she hated people standing behind her.

Bella concentrated on keeping her breath steady, listening to the steady cadence of his words as he talked about the things they might see on the tour.

After a few minutes, Bella blew out a long breath and looked up. "Sorry," she said weakly.

Edward's expression was serene. "You have nothing to be sorry for." He pulled back, a mischievous expression on his face. "So, Miss Swan," he began.

She gave him a little smirk. "Call me Bella."

"Bella then," Edward agreed.

"What about you?" She took a sip of the wine. "Just Edward? Ed? Eddie?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "Ted?" She was teasing, knowing he hated each and every nickname for Edward.

He grimaced but smiled at her. "Just Edward."

Over appetizers and soup, they made the typical small talk - even information they already knew about each other. They talked about where they grew up, their families, her wish that she had siblings.

"So what do you do for a living?" Bella asked in a teasingly blase tone.

To her surprise, Edward's smile fell. He looked down as their entrees were served, his expression far off.

"Edward? I'm sorry-"

Quickly, he looked up, shaking his head and reaching across the table to brush her fingers. "It's not your fault." He leaned forward somewhat conspiratorially. "I actually had an argument with my mother about this very subject earlier today."

"Esme yelled at you?" Bella's eyebrows shot up.

"I didn't say she yelled." Edward smiled at her. "She brings up a valid point, and you have a good question. To answer it, I don't really know what I do for a living anymore."

Bella nodded slowly, feeling the same twist in her stomach. She still hated that his life had been turned upside down by what had happened to her, but they'd had this discussion time and again. "You know, I don't know what I do for a living either," she said quietly.

He tilted his head. "You're good at what you do."

"I am. But it's only what I do to pay the bills." She swished her wine in the glass, watching the swirl. "I already told you - it's too isolating in the long run."

"So what were you thinking?"

Bella shook her head. "Oh no. We're talking about you. What were you thinking about?"

Edward snorted. "I haven't a clue, actually." He began to cut his steak into bite sized pieces as he spoke. "I don't know that I'm qualified to do anything, really."

Bella stared at him, incredulous. "Regardless of whether you want it or not, your company is very successful. I'd say that qualifies you for... something."

"Something," Edward repeated. "I could start another company, you mean."

"I think you could do anything you wanted," Bella said softly, sincerely. A little embarrassed, she stumbled ahead. "Maybe you should concentrate on matching people with pets. I know you hate Jake, but he's perfect for me. He's... exactly what I needed."

Edward opened his mouth, but whatever he was about to say died on his lips. He cocked his head, his eyes going wide and sightless.

Bella called his name twice before he looked at her.

"It was a good idea - finding connections. So many people are so very lonely, even in a crowded room of people." He huffed lightly. "In fact, being lonely when you're surrounded by people is the hardest form of loneliness.

"Everyone wears so many masks, plays so many games, it's difficult to find a good friend let alone a partner." His fingers traced the the side of her hand and he smiled slightly. "I thought if I could help people wade through all the bullshit and find other people... it would be a good thing."

Bella curled her fingers around his. "It is a good thing."

He looked up, a spark of excitement in his eyes. "Humans are... an interesting bunch. But animals... animals are very simple."

"What are you thinking?" Bella leaned across the table, caught up in his sudden fervor.

"There's a psychology to animals, too. You remember how the shelter worker talked. She knew Jake's personality. They all have personalities - dogs, cats, rabbits - all of them." He was beginning to speak very quickly. "And...there is a reason I took you to the shelter. It wasn't a stroke of genius. A dog is..." He trailed off, his eyes apologetic.

"It's good for me to take care of someone," Bella said softly. "Jake is unconditional, uncomplicated affection I can accept." She'd known exactly why he got her a dog, exactly why Jake was so therapeutic for her. "Connect the dots for me."

"Well... I already have the program. There are so many shelter pets who need to be rescued." He tapped his chin. "Maybe for traumatized children."

Bella raised her eyebrows. "You want to match kids with pets."

Edward looked up, slightly uncertain. "Is that stupid?"

"No." Bella shook her head. "No, it isn't. I mean... there's definitely something that goes into matching a pet with a family. The profile would ask questions about the owner, the family... the residence."

Nodding excitedly, Edward grinned. "Exactly. A lot of people have to give shelter pets back because they aren't a good match..."

Over the rest of dinner and all of dessert, they talked excitedly, tossing ideas back and forth.

"Oh, my God," Bella groaned, pushing away the remnants of her dessert. "I didn't even realize how much I ate."

Edward's smile was soft as he looked across at her. "How was it?"

"Delicious, of course. I've never had a meal like this, Edward."

He was pleased, and it showed. He tilted his head in the direction of the verandah. "Do you want to get a little air?"

Nodding, she let him take her by the hand, leading her outside.

The deck was littered with comfortable lounge chairs and couches. Bella flopped down on a comfy couch, tugging his hand until he sat down beside her. "This is beautiful. Peaceful," she murmured, her hand against his chest as she cuddled against his side.

"Good first date material?" He was running his fingers through her hair.

Bella snorted. "Little overdone, chief." Tilting her head up, she kissed the underside of his chin. "But thank you. This is really perfect. I'm actually a little surprised you didn't use what you know about me... I was expecting something geeky. Maybe the sci-fi museum."

He paused. "Well, I have to admit I did use my advanced knowledge of the psychological component of the program," he said slowly.

That caught her attention. "Psychology?" she asked, instantly feeling uncomfortable. She wasn't so lost in her bliss that she had forgotten what a basket case she was.

He drew his fingers down her cheek. "Mmmhmm. You're a closet romantic."

Bella lifted her head. "What?"

As he spoke, he continued to trace the lines of her face - her cheeks, the bridge of her nose, her chin. "You rely on common sense and logic more than anything else to guide your decisions." His lips turned up and he leaned forward, brushing a soft kiss across her lips. "But at heart, you believe in romance. Grand gestures... intimate meals under the moonlight."

Bella was completely enraptured, watching his lips move as he spoke. She felt dizzy, caught - as he predicted - in the romance of the moment. Her heart was pounding quick against her chest.

Tilting his head, he kissed her more fully, lingering. Bella wound her arms around his neck, sighing, content and, for once, free of any thought or emotion besides the love she felt for this man and his love for her.

Pulling back slightly, his smile deepened. "Sometimes it's nice to indulge." He took her hand, bringing her knuckles to his lips where he pressed a kiss. "Will you dance with me, Bella?" His voice was so low and smooth it seemed to vibrate along her spine.

Her throat was tight, her thoughts mere wisps that flitted away. "I don't know how to dance."

He kissed her chin. "Indulge me."

Kissing him, Bella nodded. "Yes."

His lips turned up, and he stood, pulling her with him. It occurred to her only then that soft music was playing, though that didn't matter so much. She would have danced with him with no music at all.

They swayed gently on the deck to music that spoke of love and a happily ever after.

As she rested her head on his chest, happy and, at least for those moments, whole, Bella heard her mother's voice.

"_Keep your feet on the ground, sweet pea, but if you feel something that's all magic - don't be afraid of it_."

And right then - Bella was anything but afraid.

* * *

**A/N: Many thanks to GinnyW, Jessypt, barburella, and jfka06.**

**You guise. Your reviews for this story, your interest, consistently make my day. From where I'm looking... I'm thinking 3-4 more chapters at max. **


	26. Let's Get Physical

**A/N: Much love and heart to youz guyz. Freally.**

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The next few weeks were, as things went for Bella, relatively blissful.

Bella let Edward use their dates as an excuse to coax her outside. He took her to the Woodland Park Zoo, to the Aquarium, and several museums all during school hours when there weren't a lot of crowds. He took her to a movie that had been out several weeks so the theater was nearly empty. The movie turned out to be boring, but Bella hardly minded, seeing as she took the opportunity to make out with her boyfriend in the back row.

They even went on a triple date with Alice and Jasper and Rosalie and Emmett. Edward had been invited to the opening of a new club. As such, he was able to secure a corner booth. All Bella's friends surrounded her as they entered, forming a sort of shield as they made their way through the throngs of people. Bella kept her head down, squeezing the life out of Edward's hand, but she made it without incident. Her friends were content to let her spend the rest of the night tucked safely into the booth with Edward at her side more often than not.

It was nice to be part of the world, even if she was relegated to being a wallflower for the time being.

Not to say there hadn't been setbacks. She'd had a rather bad panic attack when a stranger - a blond man - had subconsciously wandered into her personal space at the zoo. But all things considered, Bella was progressing, combatting the agoraphobia that had crippled her in the early days of her recovery.

As nice as it all was - rewriting her past, pretending she'd met Edward instead of the monster - Bella couldn't deny the difference. Aside from the general anxiety and the occasional panic attack, she was well aware their physical relationship was progressing at a far from normal rate. The most Bella could say on that front was that she'd graduated to French kissing with relatively little difficulty, and Edward could use his hands, hold her a little tighter.

Bella alternated in her fears, thinking that she would never be able to hold onto Edward if she couldn't let him touch her and also thinking he wasn't really attracted to her when he seemed content with relatively chaste kisses.

"Let me make something abundantly clear to you, Bella Swan," he'd murmured when she voiced her fears. He took her face carefully in his hands, looking into her eyes so she could be certain of his sincerity. "There is nothing I don't want to do with you. You are the most beautiful woman in the world to me, and I can't imagine a time when I won't want you in any way you choose to give yourself to me." He'd taken her hands, kissing her fingertips carefully. "But I want you to understand, this isn't about the physical things to me. I love being with you. That's not going to change."

He'd kissed her softly, fluttering his lips over hers. "I know it'll happen for us. I want it to be something you want, not some chore you're afraid of."

"I don't think there's any getting around that last part," she'd muttered bitterly.

"Either way. I don't want you to feel pushed into it - not on my account."

Bella knew without a doubt he was sincere on both counts. His kisses were too fervent for her to think he wasn't invested. Bella liked to straddle Edward on the couch - it gave her a better sense of control - and when she did, he frequently had to still her movements.

The first time it happened, Bella's body and mind seized. More than anything else, she hated when unwelcome memories of her monster intruded on the time she spent with Edward. But when she felt Edward's arousal, she flashed back to being pinned on Mike's lap, remembered how ugly and awful it felt when he ground his erection against her ass.

But Edward's voice, as ever, was her refuge. They were learning her limits together, and when things went too far too fast, he knew to talk against her ear. It kept her grounded, kept her safe in his arms.

Still, it was frustrating that their physical relationship couldn't be easy.

They were working out the details of Edward's newest business venture together and so spent many evenings at his table, laptops out and paperwork scattered.

Bella was... distracted. She peered over her laptop, smiling to herself because she was just enjoying her view.

Edward was working furiously at his laptop, his brows drawn in concentration and his lips pursed.

He was wearing glasses - thick ones.

Why that was such a turn on, Bella wasn't quite sure, but it was doing pleasant things to her body and making her want to do wicked things to his.

Decisive, Bella stood. Her heart was pounding, and she was nervous enough that she couldn't speak. Still, she knew what she wanted.

Edward glanced up at her, curious when she took his hand. When she tugged, he stood.

"Bella?" He stopped short when she pulled him toward his room, his fingers tightening around hers. She looked back and tugged on his hand again. She was nervous and scared - frustrated because she hated that this was such a huge deal - but she knew what she wanted.

Edward being Edward, he didn't ask if she was sure, didn't second guess her. He let her lead him to his bed and sat down beside her. Bella's breath shuddered, but she tilted her head up and began kissing him as she splayed her hand across his chest.

He kissed her back, his hand at her waist, his finger stroking along her side.

Bella was fine as she explored Edward's body with the tips of her fingers.

She was happily caught up in the moment when he moaned his pleasure into her mouth, reveling in the intimate touch.

When his tongue swept across her lips, she opened her mouth to him, both their movements becoming more voracious. Edward turned his body toward hers, his hands coming up to the small of her back.

Everything was perfect.

Until her questing hands moved to cup him where he was hard and hot.

Suddenly she wasn't in his bed, in his house, where she had always been loved and protected. She was back in that house with Mike pushing her down on his bed. She remembered with perfect, horrible clarity the way it felt. Her stomach was twisting, her heart pounding. She felt like she was so close to going out of her mind, and part of her wished it would happen. Anything so she wouldn't have to be present in her own head while this happened to her.

Mike had already tied one of her wrists to the headboard, but he took her other hand and pressed it between his legs.

"_This is all for you, pretty Bella. You see what you do to me_?"

"It's okay, Bella. You're okay. You're safe."

"_This is going to be so, so good._"

"Listen to my voice, sweetheart. No one is going to hurt you."

Her mind scrambled, trying to orient herself in place and time.

Edward. She heard Edward's voice murmuring to her, promising love and warmth and security if she could just find him.

"That's it. Just breathe. Breathe, Bella. I'm right here."

She breathed. And opened her eyes.

No one was going to tie her up here.

Bella breathed in deep again, realizing she was curled in a fetal ball at the very edge of the mattress. She skittered backward, falling right off the bed onto the floor. She kept on going until she had her back pressed up against the wall. There she felt a little better though she was still shaking and weeping.

But finally, she was able to raise her head a little. She didn't look up, knowing Edward was perched on the edge of the bed, murmuring to her, waiting for her to come back.

"I'm here," she said, her voice raw with her tears and the residual terror.

She heard the rustle as Edward slid onto the floor and when she peeked, she saw he was sitting with his back against the bed, facing her. "Can I touch you?" he asked quietly.

Bella whimpered because it was exactly what she wanted - his touch, to know he still wanted to touch her. She nodded.

He leaned forward, his fingers stroking along her hairline carefully. When he saw this wasn't making it worse, he moved to sit beside her, tucking her under his arm. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She groaned. Want was not the best word. But with her therapist's help, she was beginning to understand she needed to talk about these things, especially with the people who were important to her.

This attack had been a bad one - the kind that stole her energy. Her muscles ached. Her head throbbed. Her bones felt the opposite of solid, and she didn't trust them to hold her up.

Sighing, she sniffled and lifted her head. "Will you take me outside? To the patio?" She didn't want to taint his bedroom with her heavy thoughts.

Edward studied her carefully for a moment, wiping away her tears. He stood, pulling her up into his arms without a single question asked. Normally, Bella hated feeling like an invalid, but tonight it was soothing to have Edward cuddle her so close. After an attack she felt ugly and undesirable. He quieted that ache.

He carried her outside onto his patio and settled her on one of the lounge chairs before ducking inside to grab a blanket. When he came back, he lay down with her, curling her close to him. In a minute the blanket was tucked tight around her.

For a long few minutes, Bella just breathed him in. The cold air and Edward's warm arms were doing wonders to calm her down.

Staring off, she began to talk, trying not to listen to her words. She told him what had been going through her mind and he listened, squeezing her tightly.

When she was done, Bella blew out a long breath. "I hate this," she said shakily. "I think... It's just that you're everything he thought he was."

Edward was silent, but she felt the way he tensed. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "It's just... He thought he was in love with me. He thought we were a couple, that I... wanted everything he was doing."

Her voice broke and she closed her eyes, twin tears trailing down her cheek. Edward only held her, rocking her slightly as she calmed again.

"But he didn't get it." She gasped and sniffled, trying to keep calm and failing. "Every time he... touched me. I asked him to stop. I told him I wasn't ready. I told him I wanted to wait. I told him I wasn't feeling well... anything I could think of. But he didn't stop. He never stopped."

She trembled and Edward kissed the side of her head, shushing her and swaying her gently. "You and me... this is your choice," he whispered near her ear. "It's always your choice."

"I know." She breathed deep, in and out, in and out until her body relaxed. She found his hands and wound their fingers together, squeezing tightly. "I know you would never hurt me like that, but I think I needed to _see_it."

"Anything you need." He kissed along her hairline. "Be patient with us, Bella. We'll get there."

That brought her smile back. Feeling the last of her shame fade, Bella shifted, turning in his arms so she was facing him. "Can we just lay out here for a bit?"

"If I must," he said, sighing dramatically, but he was smiling at her.

Rolling her eyes, Bella licked the tip of his nose before she snuggled close to him, just enjoying the silence.

Eventually, the cool Seattle evening herded them back indoors. Work forgotten, they sat on opposite ends of the couch, their feet tangled, while a movie played in the background.

Though Bella was enjoying her time with Edward, she wasn't paying attention to the movie. Her thoughts kept wandering back as she tried to work through what she was feeling. She was caught up between worlds - distracted by her constant nervousness and her urge to be like any girl in love with her boyfriend.

She wanted to express her love physically, and she didn't want to wait.

Looking up, Bella was startled to find Edward's eyes intense on her, burning with an expression that shot straight down her spine, sending a thrill through her bloodstream. She realized belatedly she was running her foot up and down the length of his calf.

Bella froze, her foot on his leg, as their eyes met. The atmosphere between them was electric, heavy with heat. Her throat felt dry, scratchy. Every inch of her skin was alive with goosebumps - pleasant goosebumps.

She swallowed hard.

And started moving her foot over his calf again, not dropping his gaze. "Can I... can I see your tattoos?"

He tilted his head, studying her for a long moment as he nodded slowly. "All of them?"

For some reason, that very simple sentence sent a jolt through her, and Bella felt her nipples tighten. "All of them you want to show me."

The smirk that played at his lips then was unlike any other smile she'd seen on him. This one was teasing, sultry. He sat up straight, scooting forward on the couch until their knees were touching.

Looking at her, moving slowly so she saw what he was doing, he reached forward, taking her hands. He moved them to the front of his shirt.

Bella's heart was pounding out of control. She was afraid, but it was that adrenaline inducing fear like listening to the click clack of a roller coaster being brought to the crest, that perfect pause right before the rush of the fall.

She began to undo the buttons of his shirt, her fingers fumbling because she was trembling.

Nothing had happened and this was already the most erotic moment of her life. It was terrifying - emotions made her uncertain since her trauma - but holy god...

Somehow, she managed to get all his buttons undone. He helped her get his shirt off, shrugging his shoulders so the fabric fell down his arms.

For the first time, Bella took in the vision that was shirtless Edward. The lines of his body, his muscles, were defined without being... well... Emmett-like. It was almost impossible to deny the urge to run her fingers over the contours of his skin. Really, she didn't know why she stopped herself. Perhaps it was that she was desperately afraid this high, this wonderful feeling of anticipation, could all disappear in a heartbeat.

Untangling himself from her legs, he turned his body again so his back was right in front of her. Bella was slightly overwhelmed at first. Why was his back so alluring? It was just a back. But then her eyes focused on the ink that hugged his shoulder blades.

This time, Bella gave in to the urge to touch him. With the pads of her fingers, she traced the lion and shamrock that were part of his family's crest, admiring the artistry of the lines. It was fine work.

Her fingers never leaving his skin, she traced the line of his shoulders over to the second tattoo. Her lips turned up as she traced the letters.

_I've got better things to do than survive. _

"What's the font?" she asked, entertaining the fantasy that she wanted to trace the fine fine lettering with the tip of her tongue.

He was quiet for a moment. "It's my mother's handwriting."

Bella's heart warmed. "That's... perfect, actually." It was so him. He had such a strong admiration for his mother, it seemed only right he'd permanently etched it onto his body.

Leaning forward, she pressed a long kiss to the letters on his shoulder blade. He shivered beneath her lips.

"Mine is from a book," she murmured, resting her head on his back. "One of my favorite characters. Her font."

He hummed. She felt the vibration against her cheek.

Bella's heart was pounding hard enough she was sure he must be able to feel it.

"Do you want to see?" she finally asked, her voice only a breath.

Edward sucked in a breath.

He didn't answer out loud but moved again so he was sitting up correctly with his feet on the floor on his usual end of the couch. He patted his lap, his expression soft as he looked on her.

Bella squeezed her eyes shut, feeling slightly light headed as she remembered what had happened the first night they'd met. Blowing a breath out, she leaned back against the arm of the couch and put her feet on his lap.

Edward's smile was gentle, his movements easy, his eyes watchful for any sign of discomfort from her. He cupped the back of her ankle, rubbing his thumb in a circle over her jeans.

Bella stiffened, waiting to freak out. When she didn't, she breathed a little easier. Edward moved his hands to her foot.

Again, she stayed calm. More than that, his touch was still thrilling, and that little thrill was quickly overcoming any anxiety she was feeling. Tilting her toes against his hand, she offered up a small smile to let him know she was okay. More than okay.

For moments he just massaged her foot, letting her get used to his touch.

Then he moved his hand to the tip of her sock. He tugged slightly, his eyes not leaving hers.

Bella pressed her lips together, keeping her eyes on his while he tugged the sock off her right foot. Her head spun but she remained there with him. She did feel naked, ridiculously exposed, but when she looked at him, he was looking back with concern, tenderness... and that electricity she felt in the air was reflected back at her.

His eyes flitted down to her foot.

She watched as he traced the tip of his finger along the letters that decorated the side of her foot. It tickled. It titillated. And yes, it was incredibly erotic to have him touching this part of her.

Yes, she was exposed. Yes, she may as well have been naked in front of him, but it didn't make her feel dirty.

It didn't make her feel wrong.

In fact, she'd rarely felt more right.

"This is so beautiful." His voice was a rumble. "I love the placement, the way it flows." His eyes flicked up to hers as his fingers wrapped around her ankle. She gave a little gasp as he raised her foot to his mouth. Her breath strangled in her throat as he ghosted his lips across the words just as she had done with him.

She gave a breathless little laugh as he looked up at her. That smirk was back. It was devastatingly sexy. "That's so..." _Fucking hot_. "That's a little weird."

He just winked at her, setting her foot back down on her lap. He took her other sock off, pressing his thumbs into the underside of her foot in a massage.

Her body was tensed but not with nerves. She wanted...

More.

Without letting herself think it through, she yanked her feet out of his hands, sitting up straight and turning her back on him. She hesitated only a moment before she pulled her shirt up and off.

She heard his quick intake of breath and the world seemed to slow to a stop. Bella squeezed her eyes shut, sudden tears brimming and falling over - just excess emotion rather than anything she could pinpoint. She wasn't sure how she was feeling. Her tattoos had always been special to her, their meaning intimate and personal. She didn't like thinking about them now, remembering the burn of super-heated metal against her skin and she especially didn't like thinking about how disfigured they might look.

But she couldn't deny the relief she felt when his hands, warm and gentle, pressed against the bare skin of her back. He pushed her hair away, off one shoulder, so he could get a better look.

"I don't know what they look like," she realized out loud. "They used to be beautiful."

"I can still see them." His tone was quiet but tight as his fingers brushed over the puckered, injured skin. She heard him swallow before he spoke again. "There is nothing about you that isn't beautiful," he said firmly, kissing the tops of her shoulders. "Maybe we can talk to someone about getting them touched up."

Overcome by emotion, Bella turned again. She didn't answer him, but wound her arms around his neck, cuddling close with her head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her and laid back on the couch, just holding her, skin to skin.

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**A/N: They'll get there. *hugs my kids***

**Thanks as usual to ginnyw, jessypt, barburella, and jfka06. They make me a better writer.**

**SO! I see a new tattoo in E/B's future.**

**Also... those aren't all of Edward's tattoos ;**)


	27. Prince Charming

**A/N: OMG I'M GOING TO SEE BD2 TONIGHT!**

**Ahem. **

**Happy BD2 day, everyone. I hope you enjoy. Here's a little something if you get bored in line.**

* * *

Despite the fact both Edward and Alice were grown, their family still gathered for dinner most Sundays. Many Sundays, Bella joined Edward, but today she was off with Rosalie.

The last few months, Rosalie had been getting Bella used to the idea of taking some sort of self-defense class. Maybe not classical self-defense but possibly a martial arts course. Since Bella got anxious just thinking about being around other people who were trying to throw her to the ground, she and Rosalie had started out with tae bo a few times a week just to get used to physical fitness.

Today they were out looking in on classes. Edward kept putting his hand in his pocket, checking that his phone was still there. He was glad Bella was venturing out of the house, but he was always a little anxious. Her texts so far had all been relatively free of anxiety. They had Jake with them, and Rosalie knew to stick close.

So Edward tried to relax, enjoying the time with his family.

Even though he was flying solo tonight, it was impossible not to notice how different things were now that he had Bella.

His family was so inclusive, it wasn't often he felt like the odd man out. Still, in the past, there had been those moments - after his sister was paired up - that he felt an inevitable pang of loneliness. It wasn't often that Edward was lonely - he had little enough patience for people - but when he saw the absolute contentment the other couples radiated, he'd often gotten just the smallest bit jealous.

Today he was sitting - alone - at the table. Just out of his eyesight, in the living room, Alice and Jasper were whispering together and giggling. To his left, he watched, amused, as his father snuck up behind his mother, tickling her sides. She yelped, but before she could turn, he wrapped his arms around her, pinning her in his arms while she laughed.

It was a very different kind of ache that struck him then.

No, he didn't feel the pang of loneliness, of wanting to find that intimacy that his parents and Alice and Jasper enjoyed. There was a certain wistfulness though, in watching the ease of their relationship.

Edward and Bella both existed in a state of near constant vigilance when they were together. He vaguely remembered making an analogy to a blood pressure cuff squeezing, squeezing, squeezing his heart until he thought he couldn't possibly stand it and only letting go in tiny increments.

That night, the night the FBI had found Bella, Edward had told Emmett eventually the vice grip on his heart would loosen. Bit by bit, it was for everyone else.

For Edward, it seemed that his relationship with Bella was on a cycle. His heart was caught in a vice when he first found out about her situation and his part in it, his heart was caught up again when she called him the first time, and again when they met face to face, and when he realized he loved her, and when he knew she loved him. Like the machine was stuck and it wouldn't let go. Edward wouldn't trade it for the world - what he'd found with Bella was worth walking on eggshells while they figured out what worked for them - but sometimes, it did leave him weary.

He wondered if they would ever get to the point where he could act on his impulses with her. The love he had for Bella was intense, acute, and sometimes it was all he could do not to pin her against the wall and show her with his lips, his hands , with everything he had, exactly what he felt for her.

But Bella's wounded psyche wouldn't read his spontaneous actions of complete passion and adoration as love; she would feel only aggression, control.

Slightly frustrated, Edward blew out a long breath. He looked at his parents again and reminded himself that they had once been where he and Bella were now. They'd fought their way back to this comfortable place with their own blood and sweat and tears. Even Alice and Jasper had fought their share of battles.

He was just going to keep carefully navigating forward until every bomb had been defused and there was nothing left that had the power to destroy her, to destroy them.

And, as usual, his father was his biggest help, the one he most relied on for advice. They'd both loved women who'd had to relearn how to love themselves.

"In another three weeks, it'll have been a year since everything... started," Edward told his father when they were alone. "I'm so... I hate that it happened to her. You know that. I'd do anything to change it, but I am so profoundly grateful she survived. What I want most is to concentrate on that - a celebration of her life. But I'm a little uncertain of whether or not I should bring it up."

Carlisle hummed, considering a moment before asking. "I understand why you would want that." He tapped the side of his glass, his expression far away. "Your mother... It was around the one year mark that she started to regress. But then, we had the baby. A lot of that had to do with how she struggled with Alice. I remember thinking the same thing - that I wanted to celebrate because it didn't kill her, and I was fairly certain at that point it wasn't going to kill her. But she was so fragile at the time, I was terrified of suggesting it.

"So I didn't suggest anything. Instead, I wrote letters for her to find. Short ones. One in Alice's crib, one under her pillow." He looked up with a small smile. "You get the idea. I don't think there's ever a time when it's enough - telling your most important person how and why you love them. There's no limit to that."

"Did she realize why you did it that day?" Edward asked, curious now.

"You know, I have no idea," his father admitted. His lips turned down as he remembered. "She's never told me if she recognized the date. She was fairly... out of it that whole time. But the second year and every year since then, we do celebrate. Now she sees it as a second birth date, but it took her quite a long while to understand what an amazing thing it was to not only survive but thrive after something like that."

Edward nodded fervently. It was a frustration of his, how Bella saw none of her own strength. He thought for a long moment. "It's a good idea," he murmured. "I might steal it."

Carlisle chuckled. "You're welcome to it," he said amiably.

Putting his hand on his son's shoulder, Carlisle looked closely at him. "How are _you_, Edward? Really?"

Edward was about to dismiss his father's concern off hand. He was used to it. After all, everything he went through was nothing compared to what Bella continued to suffer. But the look in Carlisle's eyes was stern, and Edward slumped. "Most of the time, I'm fairly happy. More than fairly. Bella is a gift." He waffled, trying to find the right words.

"It's exhausting, isn't it?" Carlisle filled in for him.

Exhaling in a gust, Edward nodded. "Worth it, though."

"Oh, yes. Of course. What I have now - your mother, my little girl... and you, Edward. The man you've become because of this... thing we all had to endure." He shook his head. "It happened to all of us, just like what happened to Bella has profoundly changed your life. There is something to be said about acknowledging that."

"I'm fine." Edward waved his hand. "I am. Once or twice a week, Emmett and I spar, and that helps, you know? That helps both of us." He gave his father a small, appreciative smile. "And I have you and Mom to talk to."

"It's good, but I do know you, Edward. You don't talk as often as you probably should." He hesitated a moment before he continued. "None of this should be new to you."

Edward sighed. "It isn't."

"Well, then you know what I'm about to say, and frankly, it's long overdue. It's something you should consider. There are several support groups for loved ones. I know you're in this for the long haul, and I'm so glad. You're right. Bella is a gift. And you've done such a good thing, supporting her. But I think it's time you had your own support system as well."

For a long moment, Edward stewed. Then he huffed and hung his head a little, laughing.

"What's so funny?" Carlisle asked.

"Not funny, really. I was just considering how much my life has changed in the last year. A year ago I had so many apartments, you remember?"

Carlisle pursed his lips. "You did enjoy your privacy."

Edward nodded. "Now I have only the one house. More friends in Emmett, Rosalie, and Angela." He smiled softly. "And Bella, of course."

"She has been good for you. Especially with this new business of yours. I've never seen you this excited."

"I am excited. It's a good idea." He trailed off mid-thought, tilting his head.

"What is it?" Carlisle asked.

"Something I really should have thought of before."

_**~0~**_

When she was at her most frustrated, Bella hung on to the small things.

Of late, she had been sleeping on her own, without Edward's verbal assistance. Sometimes she even slept in her bed, though after those nights, she typically woke feeling jumpy all day.

Tonight, though, she was going to have to accept she needed help. She needed Edward specifically.

It had been a rough day.

Even though she'd been out with Rosalie and Jake - two very fierce protectors - being around so many people all day had been daunting. So many strangers in her bubble space. And then watching the various classes, she couldn't help but try to imagine taking part in them.

None of them were exactly hands off, which made sense, of course. The idea was to be able to protect herself if some other asshole tried to grab her.

That line of thinking never ended well for her.

To make matters worse, being with Rose attracted lascivious male attention. Bella had been on the receiving end of more than one leer that day.

As a result, she was on edge. She was curled up on the couch, tired but afraid to sleep. The noises in her apartment were frightening her.

Giving in, she called Edward.

Rather than just talk to her, he hopped in his car - bluetooth in - and talked to her as he drove to her apartment.

When he got there, Bella was finally able to relax. She settled back against him, letting his warmth envelop her as they settled together on the chaise.

"I want to ask you something. I'm really very sorry for not asking you before." He spoke near her ear. He shifted, moving his arms so they ran along the outside of hers, winding their fingers together. "Bella, this new business... You should be a part of it. I mean a permanent part - more than just helping me with the sidelines."

Startled, she turned a little to face him. "What?"

"It's as much your idea as it is mine. You're working just as hard as I am ironing out the details." He squeezed her hands. "It should be part yours."

She didn't bother asking if he was serious. Of course he was. So rather than dwell on his obvious lapse in sanity, she considered his question. "I don't think I can do that."

"Bella, you've already-"

"Not because I'm not capable," she interrupted, knowing what he was about to say. "I just _need_to say no."

He was quiet as she gathered her thoughts.

"My father was so grounded. He was the one who raised me, really. Renee - she was a loving mother but not a... mothering mother. Does that make sense?"

Edward hummed his acknowledgement.

"My mother... one thing she did teach me was not to forget that fairy tales have their basis in reality." She twisted their hands, studying the way their fingers braided and overlapped. The air around her felt thick, slightly difficult to breathe in. "There's an honesty about the existence of love, of magic."

Again she shifted, rolling so she was laying mostly on top of him. "But I'm my father's daughter. I don't think I'm a princess, and I don't think you should be the prince who rides in on his white horse and fixes all my problems. Not anymore."

He smiled up at her, his hands resting lightly on her back. "Princes cheat anyway. They get magic weapons that can't be beat! What's up with that?"

Glad he wasn't pushing the issue, she laid her head on his chest. "I need to figure this one out for myself," she concluded. "You've already given too much. We aren't on equal footing now. We need to stop moving in the wrong direction."

This was another thing her father had taught her: Relationships were work; they weren't for the lazy. Trying to live day by day just being here was exhausting in and of itself. Trying to be one half of a functioning relationship was almost more than she could handle.

Almost.

Edward was worth the extra effort.

"For the record, it's not something I'm fixing for you. It's something you've earned," he tried again. "Honestly, isn't it you who rescued me when I didn't know what to do?"

"I made an inane comment. It was your idea. And yes, I helped. You can always count on me for help. And yes, I'm proud of that." She kissed his cheek. "Maybe someday."

They lay together for a peaceful few minutes, his fingers idly stroking her hair, before he spoke again.

"I wonder..."

When he didn't continue, Bella raised her head to look at him. He looked back, his expression contemplative. "I wonder how you would feel if I wanted to get a tattoo for you."

"For me?" Her eyebrows knitted when he nodded. "But that's crazy."

Edward tilted his head, a small smile playing at his lips. "Why? You know how important you are to me." He raised his hand, tracing her lips with the pad of his finger. "I have one for every person I love." He smirked. "Except Jasper. I let Alice get one for Jasper."

Bella arched her eyebrows. "But you only have two..."

"You've only _seen_two." There was a definite mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he looked at her, his lips slightly pursed, teasing.

Curious, Bella sat up Indian style on the opposite end of the chaise, looking down on him. "Where are the others?"

Not answering out loud but keeping his eyes steady on hers, Edward put his foot in her lap. He wiggled his toes, and she understood.

One of his tattoos was on his foot.

For some reason, this gave her a perverse thrill.

She ran her thumb along the bottom of his foot, pressing firmly. His leg jerked slightly, and Bella had to grin.

He was ticklish.

This delighted her.

She brushed her fingers along the bottom of his foot until he yanked it away, laughing as he did. But when she put her hands up in a peacemaking gesture, he let her have his foot back.

Taking care to be good, Bella pulled his sock off.

There were two words the top of Edward's foot. The neat concise script and the familiar words made Bella sure this was Carlisle's tattoo.

_Harm none._

Beneath those words was a caduceus. Bella traced the entwined snake design, contemplating the phrase.

It was a good symbol for his entire family, she thought.

She moved her fingers up to his ankle, finding his eyes again. His look was always so intense in these moments, so heavy, but not in a bad way. It was a lot of the same mechanics: her chest felt crushed, there was a lump in her throat that was painful to swallow around, her breath was laborious.

Bella had to swallow before she could speak again. "And Alice's tattoo?"

He screwed up his lips at the corner of his mouth, his expression no less smoldering but more cautious. "It's a little less accessible."

A small sliver of anxiety went down her spine, but Bella shook it off. Instead, she gave him a teasing look. "Don't tell me you tattooed an homage to your sister on your ass."

He laughed. "No." Taking her hand, he moved it to a space high on his leg - where hip met thigh. "When she was just born, I wasn't sure how I felt about Alice. I was very young, and I still wasn't sure how to process everything that had happened to my mother. I remember what my mother looked like when we found her, and I knew Alice came of that. It was all I could think about for a long time after she was born.

"And I don't know... In my memories it happened from one minute to the next. Alice was old enough to sit up on her own. We were all in the living room, watching TV together, and she was sitting up on the blanket. She was tugging at my jeans - not purposefully, but like babies do - just grabbing everything. And when I looked down at her, she grinned and giggled at me."

He smiled, his gaze far away as he remembered. "I remember thinking... she doesn't know I don't like her. She loved me. She trusted me. There she was grinning at me. She wasn't hurt by all the mean things I'd thought about her in some months. She wasn't hurt that I'd tried not to love her.

"After that, she was always in my arms." He pressed her hand again against her side. "Mom said she was permanently attached at my hip."

The feeling that welled in Bella's chest then was so strong, for a moment she felt she couldn't hold it. This happened often enough when she was around Edward. Whenever it hit her - he was beautiful. Inside and out, he was a gorgeous human being - scarred and flawed but in that perfectly imperfect way.

"I want to see." Her voice was soft but sure.

He held her gaze for only a few heartbeats before he nodded. Standing, he watched her as he moved his hands to his fly.

Abruptly, Bella moved to sit in front of him, and she batted his hands away. "Let me."

He hesitated a moment but moved his hands to her shoulders, drawing the back of his fingers along her neck.

Undoing his button, Bella slid one side of his jeans down along his right hip. She held his gaze for several beats more before she looked.

Ignoring the tangle of hair that peeked out from the edge of his boxers, Bella found the tattoo easily. She was a little shocked to see no words. At first she wasn't sure what she was looking at. The edges were jagged - like it was meant to be part of a dream instead of reality - but it was a rose bush. She could tell by the single, brilliantly red rose on it.

"'Lina said to Fundevogel: 'Never leave me, and I will never leave you.' Fundevogel said: 'Neither now, nor ever.' Then said Lina: 'Do you become a rose-tree, and I the rose upon it,'" he said quietly.

Bella looked up at him, a little struck. "What is that?"

"A woodsman found this lost child, Fundevogel in the woods and brought him home to raise along with his biological daughter, Lina. The children were inseparable and loved each other. No matter the circumstance, they endeavored never to be parted. It's a fairy tale from the Brother's Grimm. "

Looking back to the tattoo, Bella touched the erratic pattern. "That explains the macabre look."

Edward gave a soft huff. "Yeah. Alice loved those fairy tales because they were so macabre, I think. She drew this. And she has the same tattoo, but her apple is black, and the bush is green."

Her eyes flicked up to his, and she smiled. "I like green."

Smiling gently, he stroked the underside of her chin.

She loved him. So much. And what she wanted more than anything was to express the emotion in her body, the feeling that filled her nearly to the point of pain.

"I want..."

The words didn't come. There weren't words for what she wanted. And honestly, not much of what she really wanted were things she could have.

But she knew she could have him.

Rather than speak, she tugged his pants and boxers down.

"Bella!" he was obviously startled, but she paid him no mind. She tugged his hand, and he followed her direction, sitting back down on the chaise. Hand to the center of his chest, she pushed him back.

"Bella," he said again, his voice scratchy, his hand resting on her back.

He was thick, pleasingly so, she noted. She slid down the chaise a little, wrapping both her hands around his length.

She was trembling.

But she was still there.

"Baby, you don't-" His words cut off in a throaty cry as she enveloped him in her mouth.

This was her gift, freely given.

She released him, but only for a moment. "Talk to me. Touch me," she asked. Edward gave her all the control in their physical relationship, and it was time she took it.

But once he had her permission, he was all sweet words and soft caresses. He told her how beautiful she was, how incredible.

How much he loved her.

And how fucking good this felt.

And, "Jesus Christ. Bella. I, um... Not. This is... Long time... not indicative of my performance."

Listening to him babble out his pleasure was the greatest pleasure she'd known in...

Too long.

Maybe ever.

His hands moved up and down her back, through her hair, in time with the jerks of his body. He was doing his best not to push her or raise his hips to meet her mouth.

He did tug on her ear when he couldn't hold back any longer.

Firmly in the moment, wrapped up in how fantastically erotic the noises he was making were, Bella didn't let up. She ran her finger from the base of his shaft down to his balls and he lost it.

She swallowed and licked him clean, so satisfied with herself and the way he was panting, she was grinning around his cock.

Finally, she straightened up, smug and excited and happy. He raised an eyebrow as he caught his breath, but his lips were turned up, his eyes reflecting the same happiness she felt. He reached down, hauling his pants up quickly and reaching his arms out to her.

Bella came willingly and kissed him as she lay with him, sharing his taste. These kisses weren't so gentle or careful. They were both exhilarated, the air between them electric.

"I want to reciprocate," he said, breathless again as he broke their kiss.

Smiling gently, she shook her head. "This is perfect. This is exactly what I wanted."

He cupped her cheek, tilting her head back to him. Tangling their legs together, they kissed on the chaise well into the evening.

* * *

**A/N: I love you all. I love this fandom. I love these characters.**

**I'm hyper. can you tell?!**


	28. Retrograde

**A/N: BD2 was... amazing. I will never have a movie-going experience like that again in my life. I know this. GUH.**

**This was supposed to be the last chapter. Bella had other ideas though. *hugs***

* * *

Edward woke up with a yawn, blinking blearily. He stretched a bit, disoriented. There was something... off.

Gradually, he became aware of an intermittent, soft snore and a weight on his chest.

Looking down, Edward realized abruptly where he was.

This was Bella's room, in Bella's apartment. Her bed.

And she was fast asleep, her head on his shoulder, her palm spread flat on his chest.

Moving carefully, he ghosted his fingers over her arm, not quite touching her soft skin. He marvelled for a moment, fully appreciating this moment for all its tiny miracles.

First of all, she was wearing a simple t-shirt. It didn't cover her arms completely - a rarity. She was never out of her long sleeved shirts, sweaters, and sweatshirts for very long. She was lying in this bed, with him. She was asleep.

She trusted him enough to sleep in his arms.

As he recalled the night before, they'd started off on opposite ends of the bed, their hands joined between them, just talking. They'd been doing that a lot - talking until she fell asleep. Then he would cover her with a blanket, leaving her cell phone nearby before he left.

Last night, though, he'd fallen asleep. He wondered if he fell asleep before her, if she'd curled up like this with him purposefully or if she'd reached for him as she dreamed. He didn't know which one he preferred.

It was her subconscious that was the problem. He knew there was no one she trusted more than him. It was the reason she could touch him sometimes, why she actually felt such enjoyment giving him pleasure.

As wonderful as it was, it was frustrating not to be able to reciprocate. They were working on it, and Edward knew he had to be patient. Her subconscious was just having trouble recognizing his touch as an expression of his love for her rather than something to be feared.

It was frustrating for them both.

But little by little, they were making progress.

If she'd reached for him in her sleep, it might have been a sign her mind was overwriting her inherent terror. A male presence beside her didn't have to equate to pain, to degradation... to horror.

She looked so peaceful.

Edward tried not to move, but it was inevitable. He squirmed a little, and her eyelashes fluttered. Reminding himself there would be other days, Edward pushed away his disappointment. "Good morning, beautiful," he murmured softly, thinking it was best to speak before she woke up startled.

Her body tensed, and her eyes were a little frightened as she looked up at him, blinking sleep away. Though his every instinct told him to gather her in his arms to comfort her, he knew better. He kept his hands away from her, waiting to see how she would react.

After a moment, the startled look in her eyes softened and she smiled. "Hey," she said, her voice scratchy.

So sexy.

She yawned and snuggled closer to him like a cat seeking warmth. If he could have, Edward would have purred with contentment. His heart felt so full in moments like these.

Always worth it, always.

They spoke in quiet whispers. She was kind of draped over him, almost haphazardly, so Edward ran his hand up and down her back, occasionally pausing to twirl a long strand of hair around and around his finger.

"Bella," he murmured when the conversation lulled.

"Hmm?"

"What do you want in life? In general. Your dreams, I mean," he asked.

The air around them, so tranquil just a moment before, seemed to thicken with tension. "Dreams," she muttered and scoffed. "You're asking me to think further than tomorrow."

"Five years from now," he pushed gently.

Bella snorted. "Is this an interview? Where do I see myself in five years?"

He waited, recognizing her sarcasm as a defense mechanism. He knew what he was asking was difficult. He knew she found it difficult to imagine a future that resembled something normal.

Finally, she grumbled and answered. "Before... before..." She closed her eyes, ducking her head against his chest before she tried again. "I guess I wanted the same thing everyone wants - a meaningful career." She paused, and her voice shook slightly at her next words. "Maybe a family."

He brushed her hair back over her ear, not letting her hide. Gentle pushes. "You wanted those things or you still want them?"

"I don't know," she admitted. She looked up at him. "Is that... Is that what _you_want?"

Cupping his hand against her cheek, he looked directly at her. "Yes."

There was a sadness in her expression that broke his heart, an uncertainty. He could practically see the gears turning in her head - self loathing, insecurity, guilt... he wondered what would win out.

But rather than speak any of these things, she nuzzled her nose against his neck, breathing in.

Smiling, Edward pressed a kiss against her hairline.

_**~0~**_

Bella's thoughts were like watching a hummingbird flit here and there, never settling. It was irritating. She'd been doing better until...

Until a reporter finally tracked her down.

Bella knew reporters and news organizations from across the country had been trying to contact her ever since she was rescued. They still tried every once in awhile, but it had mostly all gone away.

This reporter was stubborn. Logically speaking, Bella couldn't blame her. She had gotten Jessica Stanley to talk. What she wanted was Bella and Jessica - the only two women to escape Mike's clutches - on the same interview.

When the reporter found her, it was one week before the one year mark since her fateful date with Mike Newton.

As she'd been walking with Emmett, her friend jumped to her defense, getting up in the reporter's face and telling her off. But it was too late; the damage was done. What little peace Bella had was shattered.

A full four weeks had passed since then. She was spiraling downward and she knew it. The reporter had brought her paranoia and agoraphobia back in full force. How had she known where to find her? And then the anniversary hit, and Bella couldn't help but remember every single day, every hour, every minute she spent with a madman as the days passed.

She tried to grab hold of it. She tried to stop it. She couldn't. She tried to remain in the moment, enjoy her friends, Edward. She couldn't. She called her therapist and tried to find a way to stop it before it got out of hand. She couldn't.

Bella fought. She lost.

Slowly, the small sense of normalcy she'd begun to enjoy slipped away. Her friends would come over, but Bella would feel too far apart to really enjoy their company, their conversation. The comfort of Edward's arms was not enough to stave off the oppressive thoughts that threatened to claim her.

Four weeks after the reporter, three weeks after the anniversary of her date with Mike, one week since the anniversary of her rescue, and Bella was an absolute mess.

Finally, she'd just been too tired to fight. Unable to comprehend why her friends loved her, how they _could_love her, she'd pushed them all away. Edward's love was painful, physically painful to withstand. She'd been an idiot thinking she could deserve him. Why should any of them have to see her like this, feel obligated to help her?

She'd yelled until she got her wish, and now she was alone in her apartment. If she could have pushed Jake away, she would have. But the stubborn animal refused to leave even when she wouldn't play with him, wouldn't react to his little yips. She was huddled on the floor, her back against the couch and her legs drawn up as tight as they could get. She was jumping at shadows again and her thoughts were a mish mash of nonsense, like a snow flurry where the flakes didn't stick, they only made it difficult to see and drive and...

She couldn't think straight.

The emotion weighing down on her chest was intolerable, a combination of terror, confusion, guilt, paranoia, and just plain sadness made it difficult to breathe.

And bitterness. Good fucking God she was so bitter.

Just a month ago, Rosalie - more nervous than Bella had ever seen her - told Bella she was thinking of setting a date for her wedding to Emmett. Bella felt so bad in that moment. It occurred to her then that in a way, Rosalie's whole life had been put on hold.

But Rosalie only told her, "I want you beside me. I'll wait years if it means you get to stand with me."

Then, it had been a daunting thought - standing in front of a lot of people in a dress - but Bella had agreed. She could do it, she thought. She was getting better about being around strangers. She could do it for Rose.

Now, it all seemed so out of reach.

When she'd gotten up, Bella didn't know, but she found herself looking outside, staring down at the people passing by, going about their day. Their existence terrified her. Her eyes darted from person to person wondering how many of them had hurt other people.

Would hurt her, if given the chance.

Watching a couple kissing on the street, Bella's thoughts jumped again.

Edward. Oh, God. Edward.

It almost felt like another life that she woke up to find him in her bed. It was days before she realized it should have struck her as unusual seeing as it hadn't ever happened before. But in the moment, it just felt so natural - like there was nothing at all out of the ordinary to wake up with morning breath, cradled in his arms.

And he'd planted a kernel of a thought in her head - a vision of the future. It had been so long since she'd thought about it, but now that he brought it up, she did want those things: a family, a future. She'd begun to think of those things, to watch Esme with her two grown kids, her adoring husband, and she ached with longing. She wanted those things, and she wanted them with Edward.

For the space of a breath she thought - maybe someday.

Now that dream was decimated - torn and tattered. It was trying to put a square peg into a round hole - it wouldn't fit.

Somewhere in the pit of her belly, the ice cold finger of despair gave away to a flicker of anger, a spark.

Bitterness left a foul taste in her mouth, like bile coating her tongue, her throat. It burned. It ate away at every other emotion.

In her mind, she saw Mike's smile, heard his condescending tone, felt his unwanted touch.

Ducking her head, Bella clawed at her hair, writhing where she sat. How much she wanted to rip those visions right out of her mind. She hated his face, hated _him_so much. Why did she have to carry these things? Why after a year, after he was dead and in the ground and he could never ever touch her again was she still so irrevocably damaged?

Why did he still have the power to take from her? Was it not enough that he'd stolen her will, invaded her body, maimed her skin?

Why? Why did he still control her? Why could she look out at the world but not be a part of it?

Lashing out, Bella picked up a potted plant and threw it at the wall. The cacophony of shattering pottery was right in line with her mood - chaos and violence. She didn't have hands, she had fists, and she ached to put them through Mike Newton's big, toothy grin.

She hated him.

She hated everything. She hated that he made her hate him. She wanted to be better than that, better than him, but she wasn't. She'd killed him just as surely as he intended to kill her.

She was a monster, but unlike Mike, she couldn't pretend to be one of them - one of the normal people.

Behind the closed balcony door, Jake barked urgently. He'd been barking since he heard the glass shatter and now stood on his hind legs, clawing at the glass, trying to get to her.

Poor little Jake who hadn't been on a proper walk in days because Bella couldn't stand to see her friends. But despite that, Jake didn't hold it against her. He was desperate to get to her, and if she opened the door he would come out with a wagging tail and jump at her, and if she stooped down to his level he would cover her in doggy kisses until she couldn't help but laugh.

Laughing seemed impossible.

She thought of all her friends and all their words, their encouragement, their endless love. She thought of Edward and how long it had been since she'd been able to hug and kiss him.

Why could everyone else have that? Hugs? Kisses? Sex?

Bella looked over her shoulder at the busy street and then at Jake.

"Fuck. You," she snarled to the vision of Mike in her head. "Fuck! You!" This time she screamed it.

She remembered her mantra, remembered what she repeated to herself every time he made her look at him:

_You are not going to be the last face I see. You are not going to be my murderer. I have things to do, and I'm going to do them._

He hadn't stopped her heart. She would be damned before she let him have her soul.

Bella was up in a lurch, her heart pounding, her thoughts snarled. Her psyche was warring with her conscious thought, but her body was on an entirely different program. None of it was adding up, but she was moving, grabbing Jake's leash, attaching it though her fingers trembled.

She stepped outside her door.

Then she stepped into the elevator.

She paused but Jake pulled, eager to be outside again.

She let him pull her out the door, onto the busy sidewalk.

Bella kept her head down, letting him lead. She was concentrating on breathing. For a terrifying handful of seconds, her heart beat so fast and hard she was certain it would burst, but it didn't. It kept beating. She kept breathing. Her feet kept shuffling forward.

It was far from smooth. If people walked too close she recoiled, sometimes with a cry. They stared. One woman asked if she was alright. Bella kept her eyes on the ground and kept walking. A little boy tried to pet Jake, but Bella couldn't stay still because she absolutely couldn't be around the child's blond haired, blue eyed father. The man snarled something at her when she rudely yanked Jake away, but it was all a mish mash to Bella.

Slowly, as they turned corners and no one actually attacked her - most people didn't pay much attention to her at all - panic began to loosen its hold at least enough that she was capable of logical thought again. She wondered vaguely where she was going - following Jake, she supposed.

Bella was too nervous to appreciate the fact she was outside by herself for the first time.

It wasn't the most ideal way to walk - with her eyes to the ground. It was luck that she saw the person heading in her direction stumble, and she was able to dodge out of the way before the woman fell right on her. Once upon a time Bella would have lunged forward to help steady her before she fell, now it was probably more of a kindness to not put the poor woman in the the midst of the panic attack that - in her current state - would have no doubt ensued.

Bella did look up though - an automatic instinct to see that the woman was alright. She was. She'd stumbled but caught herself and walked on quickly to cover her embarrassment.

Just the possibility of the chance encounter had Bella anxious, on edge. She looked around, suddenly paranoid because she had stopped. She looked over her shoulder, making sure there was nowhere someone could be hiding, waiting to pounce...

And she saw it.

And she wanted it.

Bella glanced in the shop she was in front of, an itch becoming a need. Her thoughts were a nonsensical tangle of various impulses - fear, flee, move... and right then, longing. But inside the shop there were people. Men. Sleeveless shirts. Muscles.

Strength.

Power.

Bella gritted her teeth. She tried to move. She was frozen with fear. Jake looked up at her and whined.

Fumbling in her pockets, Bella reached for her phone, all the while glancing around. It didn't feel safe to be in one place. Her fingers were trembling but she managed to hold down the 2 key, auto-dialing the only person who would understand what she needed.

Her breath was unsteady, and she was near hyperventilating when he answered. "Bella?"

"Edward? I need you," she blurted.

"I'm coming. I will be right over." No questions asked. Of course.

"I'm not at home."

She heard his breath leave him in a huff, could almost see him stop short. "Bella... Are you outside?"

"I need you. Please." She was weeping - when had that started? And Jake had noticed her distress. His leash was tangled around her legs.

"Okay, sweetheart." His voice was soothing. "I'm coming, I just need you to tell me where you are."

"I... Um. I..." Sniffling, Bella shook her head, trying to concentrate. She wiped tears away with the back of her hand and managed to find the address which she rattled off to Edward.

"Okay. I'm in the car now. I'm not far, okay?" he said. "Talk to me."

She did. She babbled. It made no sense. The words were out of order and tangled. She kept on jumping because people would come too close, would want to pet Jake. A man asked her to let him help her, but Jake growled and Bella blanched and he decided being a good samaritan and helping a woman obviously a little out of her head was just not a good idea today.

Some other day, Bella might have felt bad.

It took Edward less than ten minutes to get to her. When she saw him, she instantly threw herself in his arms, more relieved than she had words for.

He held her and rocked her and told Jake to shut up and murmured sweet, soft things in her ear while she found her coherency again.

"Bella. What were you doing out here?" Edward asked. His voice was tight. Worried.

God, she had to be scaring him to death. She sounded like a crazy person. She was going to get locked up in a room with padded walls if she didn't calm down soon.

Forcing herself to take deep breaths, letting herself latch on to the tiny semblance of security he brought with him, Bella tried again, aiming for full sentences this time.

"I want a tattoo," she said.

He pulled back a little, carefully cradling her face. "What?"

"I want a tattoo," she repeated. She tapped the window with her palm, indicating a drawing displayed there. "I want this tattoo."

Edward's eyes lingered on hers for a moment longer before he looked at the glass, seeming to realize that they were standing in front of a tattoo parlour. "Okay," he said carefully - not an agreement but an acknowledgement.

Bella tugged on him. "I need it now. I need you to hold my hand. Please," she added as an afterthought. When he still didn't move, she tugged his arm again. "Please?" she pleaded.

"Listen to me." His voice was gentle but firm. "You're going to get this tattoo, okay? And I will be right here with you... But not today."

"But I need-"

"No, no. Bella, listen. We just need to take a deep breath." His thumbs stroked her wet cheeks. "Just think about it. Where do you want your tattoo? What would you have to take off?"

Bella's breath stuttered and she frowned. He was right, she hadn't thought it through at all. "I can do it," she insisted. "If you hold my hand, I can do it."

"Stubborn woman." A small smile tugged at his lips. "We'll make an appointment. We'll come back. Just let me take you home right now, okay?"

She hesitated.

"Besides, what are you going to do with the mongrel, hmmm?"

Bella scowled at him. He knew she didn't like him insulting Jake.

His laugh was soft, and it made her happy. It had been too long since she'd heard it.

Wrapping an arm around his waist, Bella hugged him close. "Okay. Take me home."

_**~0~**_

At home, sitting on his lap with her head on his shoulder, she told him what had happened.

"I decided something today," she murmured to him.

"What's that?"

"I'm done surviving. I'm going to live."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks to jessypt, jfka06, barburella, and ginnyw for everything.**

**The next chapter IS the last, though there will be an epilogue. **


	29. Carry On

**A/N: Before we get into the last full chapter here, I'd like to take a second to ask you to send good vibes to Cris(the author of Wisp). She's landed in the hospital this Thanksgiving weekend. She'll be okay, she just needs the good juju to recover faster.**

* * *

The four weeks after an eager reporter surprised Bella were probably the worst in the year Edward had watched Bella suffer. All of the torment she'd been through had been horrible, of course, but a struggle was to be expected. Not that it made it easy to watch, experience along with her.

But those four weeks were far and away the most frustrating.

It was just that she'd worked so hard, come so far. Despite stumbling here and there, she was putting together what would one day be a very happy, very fulfilled life.

Setbacks were part of the process, this Edward knew, but watching her fall from that height, watching her regress to a dark place where he couldn't reach her, was one of the most frustrating, horrifying, frightening experiences of his life. Long days and nights when she pushed him away - pushed everyone away - he worried endlessly. Her words from back when he would talk to her on the phone all night just so she wouldn't feel alone played over in his head like a reckoning.

"_Sometimes I don't know if I want it... Life_."

_"__I'm so tired. I'm so fucking tired."_

In his head, he was remembering all the faceless, nameless people he'd spoken to when he was working the rape crisis lines. What she was feeling wasn't something he would ever be able to truly comprehend, he knew. It was a pain, an ugliness, that was trapped inside her. There were any number of unhealthy ways she could have dealt with it.

Cutting - writing the pain she felt on the inside visible on her skin. Drugs or alcohol - obliterating the pain by destroying her ability to think at all.

Suicide - killing the pain, killing everything.

He'd been so terrified for her, it was all he could do not to stand his ground when she asked him to leave. He almost insisted, almost took away her choice.

But in the end, he couldn't do it. He also knew well enough that it was impossible to help someone who didn't want his help.

What could he do but wait? He kept coming over, kept calling, kept walking away when she asked him to leave.

He missed her. He missed his friend - the woman who had been his constant companion these last few months, helping him lay the groundwork for his new business, talking about Game of Thrones, musing about life, the universe, and everything.

He missed the woman he loved - her sweet kisses and hesitant, but oh so tender, touch, the way her body felt tucked against his.

He missed her smile, her laugh - the soft and subtle signs she was, step by step, moving toward happiness, lightness.

To lose all of that, to watch it crumble and fall away while he was helpless to stop it, was maddening.

"We can't fight their battles for them," Carlisle told him one day, his eyes on his wife and a sympathetic hand on Edward's shoulder. "We're two mere mortals surrounded by three of the strongest people I've ever met - your mother, your sister, your Bella," he mused. "They're all stronger than you and I could ever be."

Edward was silent at this, agreeing wholeheartedly. "I want to be enough for her," he'd admitted to his father.

"She'll come back."

They both knew it wasn't a guarantee.

So when Bella did call, after he'd recovered from his heart attack and finding her out on the street and slightly incoherent, his relief was palpable. When she crawled into his lap and told him she was ready to live again, the piercing grip around his heart was brought back to a tolerable state.

Best of all, Bella asked him to stay.

He did. He hardly left her side for a week and a half as she fought off the remainder of her crippling depression and paranoia.

This time, she won.

She'd chosen her reward for her hard work. Tattoos held a special importance to her, just as they did for him. Edward was as determined as she was - she was going to get that tattoo.

That was the idea in his head when he suggested a walk. Bella was agreeable. She kept one hand tight in his, one hand wrapped up in Jake's leash as they walked down the street. Every little while, she squeezed his hand or pressed herself more firmly to his side in response to someone getting too close.

For the most part though, Bella was calm. She even glanced up at him when they stopped to wait for a traffic signal, smiling at something he'd said.

If he thought it would go over well, he would have kissed her just then.

Being good, he kept on walking, stopping only when they got to the tattoo parlour. He tapped the glass over the drawing of the tattoo she'd wanted before.

Bella looked at him a little wide eyed.

"We have an appointment, if you're up to keeping it," he said.

"I didn't even remember how to get here," she murmured, brushing her fingers along the glass.

"It's up to you," Edward said gently.

"But what about Jake?"

"As it turns out, mutts are welcome here." He pointed through the window where another dog - an adorable puppy - was bouncing happily around the shop. "So Jake can come in. And if you're up for it, the one who'll be doing your ink is Leah." He pointed again to a severe looking young woman with full arm tatts.

Bella tilted her head, her smile fond. "You're a sneaky son of a bitch."

He grinned back at her, brushing his hand down her cheek. "Your call."

She looked at the tattoo and back at him, pressing her lips into a thin line. Her breath was somewhat labored, her voice thin when she spoke. "You'll stay with me?"

"Of course," he promised, squeezing her hand.

Whining, Jake wound himself about her legs.

Bella took a deep breath. "Okay," she said, nodding.

Edward could feel her trembling. "Don't push yourself, Bella. We can come back."

"No. I want to. Really." She nodded again, swallowing hard as she looked inside. "Will you... um. Do you think you can tell them to give me some space?" Her eyes strayed to the group of men - buff guys, slightly scary looking.

"Of course." He took a step forward, but she stood still.

"I'll wait here." Her tone was anxious.

Edward hesitated, looking her over.

"I'm okay," she promised. "Just... I want to do this. I really want this. I need you to tell them. Please."

He wasn't going to deny her. Squeezing her hand one more time, he let go and moved for the door.

Leah, who'd been watching them out of the corner of her eye, met Edward as he came in. "Someone hurt her real bad, didn't they?" she asked, surreptitiously letting her gaze wander to where Bella lingered in the entryway. She looked at Edward and nodded. "You don't have to say it. I can see it. I wondered why you asked so many damn questions when you were in here yesterday. I just thought your girl had to be a persnickety little bitch."

Edward bristled but she held up her hands in a peacemaking gesture. "I get it now. So what do you need from me?"

Taking a deep breath to dispel his remaining irritation, Edward looked over at the others. "They seem friendly."

"I'll tell them to back off." She raised an eyebrow. "Anything else?"

"Just... use a light hand, okay?"

Leah agreed and went to talk to the others, and Edward returned to Bella's side.

She looked somewhat chagrined. "I'm a pain in the ass."

"You're fine." He cupped her cheek. "It's okay to ask for what you need," he reminded her. It was something Zafrina had told her, something she repeated when she thought she was being unreasonable.

Touching his hand with hers, Bella nodded that she understood.

As soon as they entered the little shop, the little puppy who'd been restrained in the arms of one of the guys in the shop got loose. He loped over toward them, yipping as he came. Jake barked right back at him.

"Seth!" The owner of the place - a man who'd introduced himself as Sam when Edward came around asking questions - came after the little dog.

Beside him, Bella tensed, holding onto him tightly. Instinctively, Edward moved so he was slightly in front of her, his stance protective.

Taking in the way they looked, Sam stopped short. He gave them both a friendly smile. "Sorry. Seth is just rambunctious."

Edward watched as Bella peered down to where Seth and Jake were doing the sniffing dance around each other. Their tails were wagging. She squatted down, offering Seth the back of her hand. He sniffed and then licked her. Bella giggled, petting him.

"You can let your dog off the leash. We'll look after him," Sam offered, keeping his distance.

Looking up, Bella nodded, unclipping Jake's leash from his collar as she did.

Seth bounded away, stopped, and barked at Jake.

With a little whimper, Jake looked between his girl and Seth, comically unsure of which way to go.

"Go on, mutt. I got her," Edward said, nudging the dog away with his toe.

Jake tilted his head at Edward but seemed amenable as, in the next second, he leaped after little Seth. Soon they were tumbling around the shop to the amusement of the others.

Sam moved away and Leah moved forward, offering her hand to Bella as she stood. "I'm Leah Clearwater."

Bella took her hand but rather than shake it, she pulled Leah's arm toward her, brushing the tips of her fingers over the ink that covered the young woman's arm. Leah looked at her, one eyebrow arched in vague bemusement, and Bella blushed, letting her go. "I'm sorry. It's just... They're really good."

By then, Edward was used to Bella's slightly spastic, not quite polite behavior. He understood her headspace was a little chaotic, often making her movements - like grabbing a stranger's arm - impulsive.

Leah took it in stride though. "Thanks." She folded her arms across her chest, the move not defensive but seeming natural for her. "So what are you in for?"

Edward watched Bella carefully, waiting for a cue. He'd speak for her if she needed it.

But she didn't. She took a deep breath and looked Leah in the eye when she spoke. "The sun in the window. The one with the words."

"Carry on," Leah nodded.

"Yeah," Bella said. Edward wondered if she knew she was squeezing his hand spasmodically. "I love it. The tribal look... It's just perfect." Letting go of his hand, Bella's expression was self-conscious, but she pressed on, pulling her sleeve up to show Leah her wrist. "I want it here." She touched the unmarred skin beneath the jagged scar left by Mike's rope.

Edward held his breath, knowing how difficult it was for Bella to show Leah that scar. His shoulders were tense, waiting to snap should Leah call attention to the old wound.

She didn't. "You're all bone," she mused instead. "It's going to sting."

Bella shrunk back a little, and Edward put his hand on her arm, rubbing comfortingly. "I know." Her tone was a little shaky, but she rallied. "I have one on my foot. It hurt like hell."

"Okay. You can have any words you want-"

"I like 'carry on'," Bella interrupted. "I want it exactly like the one in the window. Please."

Leah grinned. "Well okay then." She patted her chair. "You have an undershirt on?"

Bella looked a little green, but she bobbed her head in acknowledgment. Her fingers shook as she tried to unzip her jacket.

Batting her hands away, Edward unzipped her jacket for her, helping her slide it off. He stroked his thumb over her lips, smiling at her as she took calming breaths. "You got this." Reaching into his own pocket, he pulled out a pill bottle - her anti-anxiety meds. He looked at her questioningly.

Grimacing, she nodded, reluctant but knowing they would help. Edward shook two pills out and handed them to her along with a squat water bottle he had tucked in his other pocket. She gave him a look. "What else do you have in there, Mary Poppins?"

Before he could answer, she pushed up onto her tiptoes, kissing him soundly. "Thank you," she said against his lips.

Ducking his head, he brushed her cheek with his before he let her go.

Even after she took her pills, it took Bella a full five minutes before she summoned enough courage to pull her long sleeved shirt off. She was still wearing a short sleeved shirt beneath it, but it was obvious from her expression that she felt exposed. Her gaze was furtive, darting around at the others in the shop.

Edward took her hand, running his fingers over her tense knuckles. He sat in the chair to her left as Leah set up on her right.

"Ready?" Leah asked.

Bella blew a long breath out and shook her head that she was ready. Her eyes were closed, her left hand was wrapped around his, holding on for dear life.

The tension in the air as Leah touched the needle to Bella's skin was palpable. Edward's heart was racing. Bella's grip was tight. But when she exhaled again and stayed calm, they all breathed easier.

Leah seemed content to concentrate on her work and didn't try to engage either of them in conversation.

Edward kept his eyes on Bella, watching her minute facial expressions. For the longest time, she didn't move much except for the occasional twitch of her cheek, the purse of her lips as she breathed steadily.

When she did open her eyes, her look was stormy. Edward wasn't sure how to read it. There was uncertainty there but also something else.

Her eyes met his, sending a jolt down Edward's spine. The air around them was suddenly warm. He shifted, squeezing her hand, thinking how beautiful she looked just then.

He shook his head as more amorous thoughts began to get the better of him. "Bella?" he asked, deciding to put words to an idea in his head.

Her eyes darted down to his lips before they met his gaze again. "Mm?" she hummed.

"Would it bother you if I wanted the same tattoo?" he murmured.

Tilting her head to the side, her look was confused, soft, and then pleased. "You really want it?"

"Yes." He did like the design - the sun containing the words 'Carry on'. He understood why she wanted it on her wrist - where she could see it every day, where it would remind her that the sun would still come up. Taking her hand, he pressed it to his chest above his heart. "I want it here, though. And I want the words in your handwriting."

Her eyes were shining as she looked back at him. A smile crept up her cheeks. "I'd really like that," she whispered.

"I have time to do you today, if you want," Leah said, making Edward jump. He'd forgotten everyone else was there to be entirely honest.

He looked at Bella who grinned at him. "I'll hold your hand," she promised.

_**~0~ **_

They were both silent as they walked home, hand in hand.

Surrounded as they were by people, Bella probably should have been anxious. Instead, she was floating in a very surreal headspace, a somewhat distorted version of reality.

Getting her tattoo had been... confusing.

The pain of getting inked - the constant sting of the needle - was a turn on to some. For most, marking their body in such a permanent way was special. The pain released endorphins. Not that it was a sexual experience, but it piqued a certain mood.

Mostly, Bella had gone in hoping the pain didn't set off her psyche. This woman would be hurting her. Bella's conscious mind was aware that was what she wanted, but her subconscious was a whole other story.

When she hadn't panicked, Bella was pleased.

When she began to feel the first stirrings of arousal, Bella was uncertain.

She'd opened her eyes to find Edward looking at her, and her body tightened, coiled.

Ached.

Watching him watch her get inked was...

Erotic.

Her blood felt alive with electricity, her skin, her every nerve ending, aware. The emotion only intensified along with the sting of the needle.

It was very muddling. It wasn't entirely comfortable - having this kind of reaction when the last time someone had hurt her...

But then, the mood didn't dissipate when it was Edward's turn. She'd held his hand, watching his face as Leah put needle to skin. He had to keep his breathing steady, had to be as still as possible, but his every movement showed in his face. His mouth fell open as he breathed through the pain, adjusting. His cheek twitched. The skin around his eyes tightened and relaxed.

When his eyes found hers, it was one of the more visceral experiences of her life. She could feel the thrill, the steady pressure the needle brought as though it were running through her own veins again. It was one of the purest pleasure's she'd ever known - watching her handwriting appear on his skin, knowing this tattoo was hers.

And for her, now that it was done, now that she'd gone through with it, there was a blinding satisfaction, a restored piece of her soul. She'd taken this much back.

Not only had she won, but she'd shared this experience with a man who truly understood what love was, a man who loved her.

Obviously, they were being far from subtle, because Leah had snickered, giving them a knowing look after she went through the usual how to care for your new tattoo spiel. "Try not to be too aggressive when you get back home, kids," she warned. "The ink is fresh."

Edward had looked over at Bella to see if she would be upset by the words. Surprisingly enough, Bella wasn't. She'd blushed, but the corners of her mouth had tugged up involuntarily.

Now they walked home together, quiet but somehow still communicating. It was probably good that Jake knew the way home; Bella was distracted. Logically, she knew the weather was chilly, but she felt hot in her jacket. Edward kept glancing at her, and they moved their fingers along each others, caressing as they walked.

She knew they were on the same page.

When they were finally in her apartment, she turned, letting go of Jake's leash so she could wrap her arms around Edward's neck. He tilted his head down, catching her lips in a fervent kiss.

He was holding back; she could tell. He always did.

Well, tonight, she wasn't going to hold back.

Bella pushed him backward until Edward fell down on the couch. She straddled him quickly, before she could lose the momentum, the high she was riding. Resting her hands on his shoulders, she pulled back to look at him. "I want you."

Though nerves twisted her stomach sickeningly, those words were surprisingly easy to say. It wasn't about another victory, exerting control over her own body. It was only about the deep love, the absolute passion she felt for this beautiful man. After sharing the experience of their tattoos, she wanted to express what she felt for him physically.

Edward's expression was tender as he reached up, drawing the back of his knuckles down her cheek. "Tell me what you need."

Bella felt a flicker of irritation. Instinctively, she knew slow was a bad idea. Right then, the adrenaline from her win was feeding her courage. It wouldn't take much for the desire she felt to be overcome by the terror that existed like a stone in her belly.

"Take your shirt off," she said breathlessly, standing.

Her eyes were closed, her breath stuttering as she slipped out of her pants and underwear, keeping her shirt on. With her sense of sight cut off, she heard Edward's quick intake of breath clearly, felt his gaze on her.

Before she could dwell, she came forward, her hands out. "Don't touch me yet," she whispered, finding his face as she straddled him again. His face cradled in her hands, she kissed him again, sliding her tongue over his lips.

He kissed her back, making tiny, wonderful little moaning noises as he did. She could tell from the tension in his shoulders how difficult it was for him to keep his hands to himself. He did it though, for her.

How much she loved this sweet, patient, caring man.

Snaking her hands between them, she undid the button of his jeans and unzipped him. When she tugged, he lifted his hips, helping her slide his jeans and boxers down.

She still hadn't opened her eyes.

She could feel him hard and ready, lined up with her body. "Talk to me," she begged, her voice thin. Her heart was pounding, terror threatening to burst free.

"You are the most beautiful, incredible person I've ever known," he murmured, his voice a vibration against her cheek. "I love you. So much."

As he spoke, Bella gained control of herself again. She moved her hand over his length, listening to the stutter in his tone when she began to stroke him. She couldn't imagine what it was taking for him not to move, not to touch her.

What he was doing for her - giving over control of his body so she could feel in control of hers - was so beautiful, for a long second, Bella thought for sure she was going to cry. He was working so hard to help her overwrite the damage another man had caused, taking what he wanted without caring what Bella wanted or needed.

Bella pushed those thoughts away, concentrating instead on understanding, accepting, the kind of love, the absolute goodness that existed. Edward embodied that - all that was unselfish and pure and right with the world.

Kissing him, she lifted herself, resting her forehead against his as she accepted him into her body. "Hold me." Her voice was almost non existent.

Instantly, his arms were around her, one hand on her head, his arm warm on her back, the other around her waist. "I love you," he said over and over again against her ear.

Listening to his voice, she was able to anchor herself, convince her wounded psyche that this was not an invasion but an expression. She loved him. He loved her. There was nothing more right in the world than this.

Finally opening her eyes, she found his gaze on her - soft yet intense. So full of adoration. Reverence.

Slowly, she began to rock, accepting him deeper into her body.

His mouth was open, his breath coming out in puffs she could feel on her face. Bella began to run her fingers, shaking though they were, over his chest, pausing with her fingertips on the bandage. Remembering the look in his eyes, the feel in the air at the tattoo parlour stoked the lust in her. Bella rolled her hips, her back arching with pleasure at the feel. Edward moaned.

Bella supposed she could have been bitter. It was far from perfect as first times went. Pleasure, sexual pleasure, wasn't so comfortable for her. But really, her frustration was secondary to the knowledge that settled into the marrow of her bones as her body moved with Edward's.

He did love her - she felt it with his every caress, his breathy voice in her ear. He loved her, and while she might never understand why, this was her not only giving her love but accepting his.

It was a victory - all the sweeter because it wasn't only her winning, it was them conquering her demons together.

Afterward, Bella stayed for a long time on his lap, her head on his shoulder. They were sticky, but she didn't care. She didn't want to move, didn't think she would ever get tired of his hands on her back, his chest rising and falling beneath her.

For the first time possibly in her life, Bella felt tranquil in the idea she could have the things she dreamed about.

"I still want to go skydiving," she mumbled sleepily in his ear. She shook with Edward's laughter.

He cupped her cheek, stroking her hair away from her eyes as he gazed at her with complete devotion. "Anything, Bella."

Smiling, she kissed his lips.

She was alive. And she was happy.

* * *

**A/N: Before you can ask, Bella was on birth control. Neener.**

**I'll save the mush for the epilogue.**

**Thoughts?**


	30. Lost Half Found

**A/N: Gah. What a journey. Mush after the... mush.**

* * *

It took Edward a moment to remember where he was.

First of all, it was too warm. Washington was almost never too warm even in the summer. The mornings were cool enough to necessitate blankets, and yet he found himself stirring to the odd sensation of air against his bare skin. It wasn't uncomfortable but merely unusual. Automatically, he flexed his arms, assuring himself that his Bella - his wife - was safe in his arms. He didn't mind where he woke up as long as she was there with him.

However, waking up in the balmy air of Rio on his thirty-fourth birthday was probably one of the better ways to wake.

Yawning and stretching slightly - not enough to wake Bella - Edward gained on alertness. He pulled away from his wife, his eyes following the line of her back to where it disappeared beneath the sheet.

Bella had already made it very clear - around midnight the night before - that as it was his birthday, his every whim would be catered to. As such, Edward made it his first order of business to devour her naked body with his eyes.

He lifted the sheet, admiring her body in full. It had taken some time before he could do this. It had been a long, long while before Bella could bear the thought of complete nudity let alone the idea that he would see. For a long time, she felt as though her guilt and shame - the ugliness of the monster's vile touch - was branded on her skin. She felt it every day, and when she was nude her psyche was sure it was visible.

They'd worked through it together. They'd conquered. As a result, he would never take for granted the gift she was giving when he woke to her naked body pressed against his.

And what a magnificent sight. How could he ever tire of looking at her body? He had his favorite spots - the slope down low where her back met her ass, that space on her shoulder where there was a perfect divot for his lips, the tender skin just around her bellybutton where, if he licked, she would make the most delicious little squeal-gasp.

He traced her fine curves with his eyes, lingering at the two tattoos on her shoulders. Only very recently she'd had them touched up, the damage from the burns she'd suffered repaired to an extent.

She didn't mind the imperfections so much, she'd told him when the tattoos were healed and they were standing together looking in their bathroom mirror back home.

"I survived," she'd said. "And I choose to be proud of that."

Responding to his gentle touch, his fingers traipsing along her spine, she sighed in her sleep and rolled onto her back offering him yet another fantastic view. He drank her in from her lips - slightly open and always inviting - down to her feet.

Automatically, a pleased smile lit his features.

The day before their wedding they'd gotten another tattoo together. They each had a phrase decorating his left foot, her right, in the shape of half a heart. Hers read "my sun and stars" and his "moon of my life" - a nod to Game of Thrones, a series and TV show they both loved. When they put their feet together - and they often did - the heart was complete.

Perhaps it was cheesy, but it was only for them; they were the only ones, besides Leah who'd done the ink, that had ever seen them.

She was his, this amazing, passionate, beautiful woman.

Sliding down the length of her body, Edward began to press kisses along the inside of her thigh. She whimpered, still asleep, the sound not one of fear but of titillation - burgeoning pleasure.

He pressed on, nuzzling his nose in the coarse curls between her thighs. Inhaling her scent only stoked his hunger for her, and he darted his tongue out, licking in languid strokes. He let his fingers climb her body, brushing and stroking at random.

When her little sighs and tiny whines became breathy words and her body started to come alive, he moved his mouth to her clit. He sucked gently and flicked his tongue against her. Feeling her hands tangle in his hair, he grinned wickedly against her skin.

Sure now she was awake, he kissed a trail back up her body. In no rush, he stopped to elicit that sweet sound he was so enamored of, sweeping his tongue around her bellybutton. Only when he'd had his fill did he move on, pressing a kiss to each of her nipples before he finally claimed her lips.

His body pressed hers down, pulling back a little to look down on her face, into her eyes. She blinked back, her brown eyes lit at the center like embers still sleepy but sparked with energy, with want. She spread her legs, welcoming him. He took the invitation gladly.

He set an easy pace, the kind of lovemaking that built slowly. He took the time to worship her lips with his - little nips, soft pressure, his tongue sliding along hers. Bella responded with her hands sliding over his back.

After some minutes of this she angled her hips up, lifting her legs to wrap around his hips, taking him deeper inside her. Throwing her head back, she arched, her body coming up to meet his thrusts.

His hand between them, fingers on her clit, Edward brought Bella to orgasm first, staving off his own release because this was still very new to them. It was the last sexual hurdle they'd cleared, climax being a loss of control Bella hadn't been comfortable giving over.

The sound of her pleasure drove him absolutely crazy.

Minutes later, they were curled together face to face, legs and arms entwined and kissing lazily as they decided whether or not to stay awake.

Awake had so many more possibilities.

"I love you," he murmured, fitting his hand to her cheek.

Her smile was tranquil. Happy. "I love you, too." She kissed him - a serious kind of kiss. "Happy birthday."

"So far? Best. Birthday. Ever."

She rolled her eyes. "You said that last year."

"Well, it was true then, too." He simpered at her. She rolled her eyes at him again so he licked the tip of her nose. Laughing, she pounced on him, and they played the games that lovers were wont to until it all devolved to fervent kisses.

_**~0~**_

It used to be, at a gathering of Edward's family and friends, he could count the other attendees on one hand. Those days were long gone. Now to get the people most important to him together took a whole section of his favorite restaurant.

What a noisy, happy mish mash of people they made.

He watched, entirely bemused - and more than a little smitten - as a frazzled Rosalie told her and Emmett's nearly four-year-old son to go prattle to the people at the other table if he wasn't going to be quiet. Amenable, Daniel climbed down from his seat, ambled over to the unsuspecting couple in the booth nearest them and sat his happy little self down. "Mommy said I should talk to you!" he proclaimed before Emmett caught up to him.

Chuckling, Edward glanced at Bella. Her lips turned up in a private smile as she met his eyes.

Jasper leaned over to whisper to Edward. "I love the kid, I do, but he's a walking, talking advertisement for birth control."

Edward only smirked, clapping his brother-in-law on the back.

The blond man tilted his head, looking at Edward curiously. "What, you suddenly don't agree?"

Bella raised her eyebrows. "You agreed in the first place?

Edward grimaced. He put his hand on Bella's knee, squeezing soothingly.

"Ohhhh."

When Edward turned back to Jasper, the man had a blindingly wide grin on his face. "I see what's going on here."

"What's going on here?" Carlisle asked, coming up to the table. He and Esme were the last to arrive. Everyone was in motion again - the whole crew going to greet the mother and father figure who had adopted them all as family.

When they all settled, Edward cleared his throat, bringing everyone to attention. "Before the food gets here, I have an announcement to make."

There was an excited murmur, and Ben laughed. "I know! You're stepping down from Doggy BTN to create a new company where you match people with their preferred gemstones."

"That's not the name of my company, and you're just jealous. After all, you didn't get a letter from the President of the United States." Edward was preening. Just a bit.

"The President already has a husband," Ben returned. "Her daughter needed a puppy... but who knows. Her son is almost of age. Maybe there's hope for _my_company yet."

Edward grinned. They were teasing words. As far as everyone - Ben included - was concerned, Edward was the figurehead of both companies. A few years back, back on her feet and feeling more independent, Bella had officially joined the team - a welcome asset given her considerable skills. They were all a big happy family.

"Wait, you aren't actually starting another company, are you, Edward?" Angela asked.

"Err, no-"

"That wouldn't be a good business decision," Carlisle interjected. "The Pet Match is doing phenomenally for such a young business, but-"

Jasper interrupted them all by laughing so hard he nearly fell out of his seat.

"What's so funny?" Alice asked.

Rather than answer her, Jasper looked at Edward. "Being a recluse sure made it easier to get a word in edgewise didn't it?"

Esme waved her hands at everyone. "Settle down. I believe my son was trying to say something."

No one at that table would ever think to argue with Esme; they all settled down.

Edward's grin was sardonic. "Thank you, Mom. Like I was trying to say I... we," he corrected, taking Bella's hand and smiling at her, "have an announcement to make."

He didn't need to say more than that. The table burst into a joyful noise again.

"You're pregnant?" Alice squealed happy, grabbing Bella's hands.

Bella laughed and nodded, ducking her head shyly. "Eight weeks."

"Guess we know what you gave Edward for his birthday," Emmett teased.

Rosalie smacked him upside the head. Unfortunately for her, Daniel thought that was great and tried to repeat the process with Jasper.

"Good luck," Emmett said, still rubbing his head when he could finally get close enough to Edward for a congratulatory hug. "You're going to need it."

_**~0~**_

"Mrs. Cullen?"

Bella and Esme both turned. The instant she saw the woman coming toward her, Bella shrank back a little, her hand automatically going to her distended belly in a distinctly protective gesture. Responding to her obvious unease, Esme was at her side in an instant, her posture guarding.

The woman had the decency to look ashamed. "You know who I am."

"I remember," Bella said evenly. "I saw your picture." Swallowing hard, she had to remind herself she had nothing to fear from this woman though she was wary of why she was there. "You're Jessica Stanley."

Nearly seven years before, after discovering her high school ex-boyfriend had turned into a serial killer, Jessica Stanley - already a studied psychologist, had begun to do more research into the minds of men like Mike. She'd contacted Bella some years back to ask for an on the record talk. Bella was no where near ready to consider that, and the woman had not pushed.

Now, Jessica nodded slowly. "It's only chance that I'm in town tonight, and I heard you were going to be speaking here. Under the circumstances, I thought it was only fair that you knew I was in the audience." She held up her hand in a gesture of peace. "I swear I have no intention of using the information from this-"

"Please," Bella interrupted. "The talk I'm here to give is information I want known. If it's useful to you, then you're welcome to use it as part of your research." She was pleased at how steady her voice was.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward, offering her hand. Jessica smiled as she took it and they shook. "I'm not sure this is the right sentiment, but I'm glad to finally meet you."

Bella nodded. Stepping back, she gestured to Esme. "This is my mother-in-law, Esme Cullen."

Jessica smiled, shaking Esme's hand warmly. "It's nice to meet you."

Just then, Bella smiled as she heard her name being called. Turning, she saw Edward making his way down the hallway to where they were. His expression was tight - he was also well aware of who she was talking to - but his anxiety eased noticeably when he saw she was at ease.

Actually, Bella had been feeling quite nervous about the whole thing. It wasn't easy - what she was about to do.

A little less than two years after her kidnapping, Bella began to volunteer with the Cullens when they worked with the rape crisis centers. She'd started with the kids - the impossibly young boys and girls who had been through a torment she couldn't comprehend.

She'd learned so much about strength from those kids. It was how she got so invested in Edward's business. Giving faces to the otherwise nameless kids they were helping had gone a long way to stoking her need to give back, to help others who'd been through anything close to what she had.

The last year, she had been visiting colleges and universities. Their human sexuality and psychology courses often had her in as a guest speaker. The smaller classes she could definitely handle.

Tonight, though, she would be addressing an auditorium as part of the University of Washington's attempt to educate a wider range of students on the subject of sexual assault.

After another round of introductions, heedless of who was milling around them, when Edward looked at Bella, they were in a bubble made only for two.

"I'm glad you're here," she said, letting him tuck her against his chest.

She remembered distinctly thinking she would never be safe again. In Edward's arms, she felt loved and secure - content.

"You know I wouldn't be anywhere else," he said quietly, brushing her cheek with the backside of his hand. Tilting her chin up, he kissed her softly. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine. Really." Taking his hand, she pressed it against her chest so he could feel her heart. "See? Very calm."

Smiling, he let his hand drift down to the swell of her belly. "And our girl? This is her first time on stage, too."

"That explains why she's been dancing all day." She put her hand over his. "Feel?"

He grinned. "She isn't shy at all."

They all spoke for a few minutes before the dean came. "They're ready for you, Mrs. Cullen."

Edward kissed her, and Esme gave her a tight hug. "We'll be here."

Before Bella went out, she touched Jessica's arm. "Find me afterward." She breathed deep. "I think I'm ready to talk."

The look on Jessica's face was one Bella never got used to. She thought Bella was very brave.

Shaking that off, Bella followed the dean on stage.

It was a little daunting, but once Bella got going, she knew her subject well.

She spoke in a clear voice, telling some of the stories of women and men, boys and girls she knew personally.

"What's sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander. One of the biggest myths behind rape is the idea that men cannot be raped. They can. You might not think women can be rapists. They can be."

She went on to dispel the myth that rape was always violent. Most were not. Because of the environment, she spent a good deal of time talking about the fuzzy area - being drunk, high - of consent.

From there, she spoke about the culture of victim blaming, the shame. She had trouble keeping the fury from her voice when she explained the sad facts. Rape was nearly impossible to convict. Juries, particularly female jurors, were quick to judge, quick to want to place blame on the victim.

She went on, talking about what to do, what to say if it happened to a friend.

Finally, she paused, looking out at the crowd. "Statistically speaking... A lot of you are living with a secret. You're suffering in silence. You're blaming yourself. I know you won't believe me, but it is absolutely not. Your. Fault.

"And I'm here to tell you, it does get better. I've been where you are. I know what it feels like when living through the next five minutes is more than you can bear. I felt like a monster. I felt soulless. I couldn't wrap my head around the idea that I could have a future. Thinking about death was actually a relief to thinking of...everything else."

Even then, the very memory of that bleak time made her dizzy, made her feel briefly helpless. But then she pressed her hand to her belly, feeling her daughter's strong kicks. Glancing to the side, she saw Edward and Esme waiting, their expressions proud.

"It does get better," she repeated. "You can survive, and you can thrive.

"A wise woman once told me, you never know who you're going to meet, who's going to become important to you." She smiled. "Or who you'll be important to. Six years ago, I had no family, no hope for a future. I didn't think I deserved love and didn't think I was capable of loving. I was wrong. There were... There still are so many people waiting to help you, waiting to love you.

"Try to hear these words. I know they're difficult.

"You are worth it."

**~The End~**

* * *

**Depression Hotline:** 1-630-482-9696

**Suicide Hotline:** 1-800-784-8433

**LifeLine:** 1-800-273-8255

**Trevor Project:** 1-866-488-7386

**Sexuality Support:** 1-800-246-7743

**Eating Disorders Hotline:** 1-847-831-3438

**Rape and Sexual Assault:** 1-800-656-4673

**Grief Support:** 1-650-321-5272

**Runaway:** 1-800-843-5200, 1-800-843-5678, 1-800-621-4000

**Exhale:** After Abortion Hotline/Pro-Voice: 1-866-4394253

* * *

**A/N: Immense thanks to GinnyW, Shug, jfka06, jessypt, and barburella for putting up with me through all this. **

**And to all of you for coming on this journey with me. Your words are my inspiration for... a lot. Mwah.**


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